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CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 


CHAOS    OR    COSMOS? 


BY 

EDGAR  L.  HEERMANCE 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 

681  FIFTH  AVENUE 
1922 


COPTRIGHT,    1922, 

BY  E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 


All  BighU  B^&erved 


i  •*  *^' 


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IPrlnted  1b  the  Vnltod  States  of  Amexloa 


To 

N.  K.  L.  H. 

COMRADE  AND 
COLLABORATOR 


4865  i 


PREFACE 

Is  the  world  in  which  we  live  a  chaos,  a  welter  of  blind 
forces  and  brutish  passions  ?  Or  is  it  a  cooperative  enter- 
prise, through  which  Man  and  God  are  slowly  working  out 
an  order  of  justice  and  brotherhood  ? 

That  is  the  question  men  are  asking,  with  an  impor- 
tunity no  previous  age  has  known.  We  are  coming  to 
distrust  Materialism.  As  a  philosophy  of  life,  it  has  been 
stifling  moral  and  religious  forces  that  are  essential  to 
progress.  It  oifers  no  hope  for  the  future.  Selfishness 
spells  exploitation  and  class  struggle.  The  idea  of  the 
survival  of  the  strong  brought  our  generation  to  the  World 
War  and  its  terrible  aftermath.  We  have  been  passing 
through  a  period  of  intellectual  panic.  Many  current 
theories  of  the  world  have  gone  into  bankruptcy.  What  is 
to  take  their  place  ? 

The  relation  of  man  to  the  Universe  must  be  approached 
today  in  the  attitude  of  the  scientist.  For  the  modem 
mind,  knowledge  is  not  something  fixed  and  final,  but  a 
series  of  approximations.  Some  men  still  take  their  opin- 
ions on  authority.  Abstract  philosophers  continue  to  treat 
ideas  as  if  they  were  the  only  realities.  In  this  book  we 
shall  make  inductions  from  the  concrete  facts  given  us  by 
science  and  human  experience. 

Though  not  a  biologist,  my  studies  have  compelled  me 
to  take  the  biological  point  of  view.  Man  is  an  organ- 
ism ;  his  life,  physical  and  mental,  is  a  process  of  adapta- 
tion. To  reverse  Descartes'  dictum:  I  think,  therefore 
Something  is,  to  which  my  mind  is  seeking  to  adjust  itself. 
And  that  Something  is  the  vast  external  Universe,  which 
forms  my  environment.  It  is  of  little  importance  to  know 
the  exact  source  of  our  ideas.    They  may  be  built  up  out 

vii 


viii  PEEFACE 

of  sense  impressions ;  they  may  be  due  to  revelation  or  to 
some  special  intuitive  faculty.  The  real  question  is,  what 
our  ideas  are  good  for,  how  far  we  can  use  them  to  know 
our  Environment  and  control  its  forces.  All  fruitful 
thinking  is  a  form  of  biological  adjustment.  What  we 
call  Truth  and  Certainty  are  the  degree  of  our  success. 

That  truth  is  a  matter  of  utility  is  the  ruling  principle 
of  what  is  known  in  the  philosophic  den  as  Pragmatism. 
One  weak  point  in  the  work  of  this  school  should  be  cor- 
rected. It  has  had  no  criterion  for  judging  whether  an 
idea  has  practical  value,  it  gave  no  valid  reason  why  a 
theory  is  true  because  it  works.  There  is  a  biological  test 
and  a  biological  reason.  Whatever  in  our  experience,  or 
in  the  arranging  of  our  experience,  constitutes  a  genuine 
adaptation  to  the  Environment,  is  true  to  that  extent. 
Science  and  Philosophy,  Religion  and  Ethics,  are  phases 
of  the  same  fundamental  process.  They  represent  our 
human  attempts  to  know  the  world  and  fit  ourselves  to 
its  conditions.  Any  experience,  idea  or  theory  which 
enables  us  to  do  that  successfully,  has  a  survival  value. 

Our  method  carries  us  one  step  further.  The  conditions 
which  determine  man's  adjustment  in  its  various  aspects, 
should  throw  light  on  the  nature  of  the  Universe.  We 
must  adapt  ourselves  to  a  particular  kind  of  world.  What 
is  that  world  ? 

For  an  answer  to  this  question,  it  is  not  enough  to  inters 
rogate  the  astronomer  or  the  biologist.  Our  survey  must 
be  as  broad  as  life  itself.  A  certain  foreshortening  in  my 
treatment  is  thus  explained.  Much  more  space  is  given  to 
those  problems  which  involve  man  as  a  social  unit.  The 
earlier  chapters  on  the  natural  sciences  are  necessary  for 
a  proper  perspective,  but  they  have  been  kept  within  a 
brief  compass.  In  order  to  do  this,  I  have  assumed  some 
familiarity  with  recent  scientific  progress.  Detailed  re- 
views and  discussions,  given  in  my  former  book  on  The 
Unfolding  Universe,  have  not  been  repeated.  To  a  cer- 
tain extent  the  present  volume  covers  the  same  ground. 


PREFACE  ia 

But  from  an  entirely  different  angle.  Then,  in  seeking 
to  understand  the  Universe,  we  led  up  through  the  Phys- 
ical, Organic,  and  Psychological  fields,  to  the  explanation 
given  by  Religion.  In  this  book  we  take  the  Christian 
religion  as  a  working  hypothesis,  and  test  it  by  application 
to  the  Universe  of  our  daily  experience. 

Our  survey,  after  the  opening  chapters,  takes  on  the 
character  of  a  pilgrimage.  We  pass  through  various 
regions  of  human  activity,  stopping  long  enough  in  each 
to  apply  the  hypothesis  of  a  cooperative  and  moral  Uni- 
verse. The  aim  is  to  gain  an  interpretation  of  man's 
world  taken  as  a  whole,  which  may  serve  as  a  basis  for 
social  ethics.  For  this  purpose  a  horizontal  treatment  is 
necessary.  We  cannot  follow  the  vertical  treatment  of  the 
historian.  The  function  of  History  is  to  serve  as  the 
testing  ground  for  ethical  theories,  rather  than  their 
source.  Mr.  Wells'  excellent  Outline,  for  example,  was 
preceded  by  a  long  series  of  social  studies.  He  had  drawn 
conclusions  as  to  the  meaning  of  what  man  is  doing,  long 
before  he  tried  out  these  conclusions  through  a  study  of 
what  man  has  done.  Unless  one  has  a  solid  basis  of  ethical 
theory,  the  reading  of  History  is  largely  meaningless. 

I  have  tried  to  select  material  that  is  most  obvious  and 
unquestioned,  avoiding  controversy,  speculation  and  pre- 
diction. If  any  one  wishes  to  do  battle  with  me,  it  must 
be  on  the  ground  of  what  the  material  means,  the  induc- 
tions to  be  drawn  from  it.  I  offer  no  apology  for  using 
the  records  of  dairy  cows  or  the  elimination  of  yellow 
fever  at  Guayaquil  as  evidence  on  a  problem  in  Philos- 
ophy. In  studying  national  behavior,  the  attempt  is  made 
to  secure  completed  reactions  of  recent  date.  For  indi- 
vidual and  industrial  relations  I  have  taken  my  examples 
from  America,  where  they  could  be  studied  at  closer  range. 
Those  living  in  other  countries  may  cut  off  similar  cross 
sections  of  our  common  world.  If  the  tone  of  an  Amer- 
ican writer  is  more  optimistic,  a  less  clouded  sky  may  give 
a  clearer  observation. 


X  PREFACE 

We  shall  study  social  experiences  because  of  the  bearing 
they  may  have  on  the  character  of  the  Universe.  Our 
immediate  concern  is  with  principles  rather  than  with 
programs  and  applications.  It  will  be  well  for  the  reader 
to  keep  this  distinction  in  mind.  I  realize  how  inadequate 
is  the  treatment  of  many  questions.  This  is  due  to  the 
necessity  of  keeping  a  balanced  discussion  of  so  wide  a 
field,  as  well  as  to  my  own  limitations  as  a  student.  I 
have  sought  to  atone  for  it  to  some  extent  bj  concreteness, 
and  by  adding  suggestions  for  further  reading.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  works  cited  in  the  text,  many  of  the  more 
important  chapters  contain  selected  reference  lists.  Books 
are  chosen  which  give  standard  treatment  from  various 
angles,  and  full  bibliographies.  I  venture  the  hope  that 
many  readers  may  be  stimulated  to  follow  the  subjects  I 
have  briefly  sketched.  They  may  thus  gain  something  of 
the  zest  of  discovery  which  has  been  mine  through  the 
studies  of  many  years. 

If  I  fail  to  discuss  many  philosophical  or  theological 
problems,  it  is  not  because  I  consider  them  uninteresting, 
or  unimportant,  or  incapable  of  inductive  treatment,  but 
simply  because  they  do  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  this 
book.  The  most  notable  omission  is  the  question  of  Per- 
sonality. Just  what  human  personality  is,  and  how  far 
human  analogies  may  be  used  to  describe  the  God  with 
whom  men  are  in  relation,  is  a  large  and  complex  problem. 
I  do  not  mean  to  beg  the  question,  but  merely  to  postpone 
it,  for  full  discussion  in  a  later  volume.  When  an  author 
has  the  Universe  on  his  shoulders,  he  may  be  pardoned  for 
not  carrying  more  of  the  load  than  is  absolutely  necessary. 

The  rapid  progress  of  Science  during  the  past  few  years 
makes  it  necessary  to  correct  some  of  my  former  state- 
ments of  fact  and  interpretation.  This  is  especially  true 
in  the  fields  of  Astronomy  and  Biology.  The  scientific 
material  on  which  our  discussion  is  based  is  given  in  more 
detail  in  the  Appendix.  An  appendix,  like  a  footnote,  is 
not  intended  to  be  read  by  people  in  general.     It  is  a 


PREFACE  xi 

morsel  thrown  out  to  the  advanced  student,  to  divert  him 
from  criticizing  the  statements  in  the  text. 

My  book  is  a  series  of  sketches.  A  volume  could  be 
written  on  the  subject  of  each  chapter.  In  some  cases  a 
whole  library  is  at  our  command,  as  I  know  only  too  well. 
1  have  not  sought  to  strip  the  countryside  of  flowers,  but 
to  gather  samples  of  the  most  characteristic.  The  reader 
might  prefer  another  selection  or  arrangement  He  may 
object  to  some  of  my  attempts  at  botanizing.  But  the 
flowers  are  from  Nature  herself;  he  may  not  criticize 
them.  If  we  do  not  like  the  facts  of  the  Universe,  we  may 
shut  our  eyes ;  but  the  facts  are  still  there. 

E.  L.  BO. 
'Nbw  Haven,  Conn., 
December  15,  1921. 


CONTENTS 

Introduction xv 

I.   Preliminary:   Jesus'   View  of  the  Uni- 
verse             1 

A  Statement  of  the  Christian  Hypothesis. 


PART  I.    THE  EXTERNAL  UNIVERSE. 
Problem  a.    Is  the  Universe  Material  or  Spiritual? 
II.   The  Passing  of  Physical  Materialism     .      19 

III.  God  Restated 38 

IV.  Man's  Communion  with  Nature     ...      35 

Prohlem  h.    Is  Our  Planet  Unique? 
V.    The  Earth  and  the  Universe  ....       43 

Problem  c.     Was  the  Evolution  of  Ma/n>  Accidental  or 

Natural? 

VI.   The  Universe  Unfolding 52 


PART  II.    THE  RELATION  OF  MAN  TO  THE 
UNIVERSE. 


Problem  d.     Monism  or  Pluralism? 
VII.    The  Making  of  Man  .... 
VIII.   Building  the  World  of  Thought 
IX.   Completing  the  Physical  World 
X.   Developing  the  Food  Supply 
XL   The  Control  of  Health  .     .     . 
XII.    Shaping  the  Course  of  Providence 

jdii 


65 
77 
87 
95 
105 
116 


xiv  CONTENTS 

PAET  III.    THE  MORALITY  OF  THE  UNIVEESE. 

Problem  e.    Is  the  Universe  cm  the  Side  of  Righteous- 
ness and  Goodwill? 

Section  1.    INDIVIDUAL  RELATIONS. 

XIII.  The  Place  op  Altruism 133 

XIV.  The  Higher  Selfishness 143 

XV.   Character  as  an  Asset 153 

XVI.    The  Cooperation  of  Prayer 167 

Section  2.    INDUSTRIAL  RELATIONS. 

XVII.    Industrial  War      . 175 

XVIII.    Attempted  Remedies 195 

XIX.    Democracy  in  Industry 211 

Section  3.    NATIONAL  RELATIONS. 

XX.    National  Aggression 231 

XXI.    Colonies  and  Trade 250 

XXII.   The  Treatment  of  Other  Peoples  .     .     .264 

XXIII.  The  Color  Line .282 

XXIV.  The  Growth  of  Common  Interest  .     .     .     294 

XXV.   The  Future 311 

Appendix  A.    Index  to  Bible  Passages  in  Chapter 

I 331 

Appendix  B.  Recent  Progress  in  Cosmogony  .     .  334 

Appendix  C.  Habitable  Planets  among  the  Stars  339 

Appendix  D.  The  Emergence  of  a  New  Species  341 

Appendix  E.  Chemistry  and  the  Organism     .     .  342 

Appendix  F.    The    Evolution    op    the    Organic 

Machine 344 

General  Index 349 


INTRODUCTION 

Man  is  part  of  a  Universe,  to  which  his  life  is  in  per- 
petual adjustment.     In  it  he  lives  and  moves  and  has  his 
being.      The  character   of  that  Universe — its  laws  and 
forces,  its  conditions  of  success  and  failure — is  a  matter 
^of  supreme  importance  to  individuals  and  nations. 

Many  working  theories  of  the  Universe  have  been  pro- 
pounded. Some  of  these  were  direct  attempts  to  explain 
the  world,  put  forward  by  philosophers  or  theologians,  or 
by  scientific  workers  in  various  fields.  Often  the  theory 
t  was  little  more  than  a  fixed  attitude  of  mind,  an  assump- 
tion as  to  the  world  and  man's  relation  to  it,  a  pragmatic 
creed  by  which  actions  were  guided.  Of  these  hypotheses, 
many  have  failed  because  they  did  not  account  for  all  the 
facts.  Others  furnished  no  'sure  guide  to  success  in  the 
practical  adjustment  of  men's  lives  to  the  world.  The 
theory  was  discredited  because  it  did  not  work;  the  real 
Universe  was  different  from  what  was  described  or  as- 
sumed. A  philosopher  has  argued  from  false  premises, 
which  later  cause  the  structure  of  his  thought  to  come 
tumbling  down.  A  scientist  has  interpreted  the  Universe 
from  the  standpoint  of  his  own  studies,  and  left  out  of 
account  the  equally  important  contribution  of  other  sci- 
ences. A  ruler  ignores  moral  laws  that  are  as  inexorable 
as  gravitation,  and  ends  at  Amerongen  or  the  guillotine. 
A  workman  revolutionist  kills  the  goose  which  lays  the 
golden  egg.  A  minister  of  the  gospel  pictures  the  world 
and  man  as  he  thinks  they  ought  to  be,  not  as  they  really 
are,  and  people  choose  reality.  A  captain  of  industry 
acts  on  a  conception  of  human  relations  which  makes  them 
mechanical  instead  of  human,  and  Bolshevism  lurks 
around  the  comer.     The  shore  is  strewn  with  wrecked 

XV 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

theories.  In  looking  at  tlie  Universe,  it  behooves  us  all 
to  see  it  straight  and  see  it  whole. 

Like  many  thinkers,  in  many  lands,  I  have  found  my- 
self turning  for  guidance  to  the  great  Teacher  from  whom 
we  date  our  calendar.  The  Christian  religion,  as  a  prac- 
tical philosophy  of  life,  defines  God  in  terms  of  Jesus' 
teaching,  and  affirms  that  the  Universe  is  on  the  side  of 
righteousness  and  goodwill.  Is  this  true  ?  Does  the  Uni- 
verse really  possess  such  a  character  ?  That  is  the  problem 
which  is  before  us  for  solution.  The  philosophy  of  Jesus 
has  the  right  to  be  tested,  like  other  hypotheses,  by  experi- 
ence and  experiment.  In  fact  his  theory  is  being  tested 
today,  not  only  by  men  and  women  in  their  individual 
lives,  but  by  institutions  and  nations.  The  result  should 
prove,  as  far  as  proof  is  possible,  whether  the  Universe 
is  Chaos  or  Cosmos.  My  book  attempts  to  gather  and 
weigh  such  evidence.  It  is  intended  to  be  inductive  in 
method  and  entirely  open-minded  in  spirit.  The  Christian 
teaching  is  accepted  as  a  working  hypothesis.  To  learn 
how  well  it  interprets  the  world  as  we  find  it — this  is  the 
object  of  our  quest 

The  Christian  theory  of  the  world  is  embodied  in  the 
teachings  of  Jesus.  [Chapter  Jf.]  Christ  was  a  law- 
giver, not  in  the  sense  of  the  legislator  who  enacts  laws, 
but  of  the  scientist  who  discovers  them.  The  truth  which 
he  found,  and  proclaimed  in  the  fact  of  bitter  opposition, 
was  that  of  a  Universe  essentially  spiritual,  the  manifesta- 
tion of  the  ever  present  Father.  This  Universe  is  still 
unfolding,  and  its  completion  requires  the  active  coopera- 
tion of  men.  Both  as  joint  creator  and  as  the  object  of 
creation,  the  individual  man  is  supremely  important  The 
righteous  and  loving  character  of  God  makes  integrity 
and  goodwill,  not  only  the  basis  of  Ethiea,  but  the  clue 
to  practical  success. 

I  am  increasingly  impressed  by  the  philosophy  that 
underlies  Jesus'  teaching,  his  interpretation  of  the  exter- 
nal world  in  terms  of  God  as  Spirit    This  is  more  than 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

a  doctrine  of  Divine  immanence,  as  commonly  understood. 
For  a  generation,  we  have  had  a  growing  emphasis  among 
Christian  writers  on  the  idea  of  God  in  Nature.  But 
Jesus  appeprs  to  me  to  put  it  the  other  way.  He  does  not 
sink  God  in  Nature.  He  sees  Nature  as  the  direct  activity 
of  God.  He  does  not  sharply  separate  the  world  from  its 
Author  or  Source.  In  a  sense  this  is  a  revival  of  the  older 
Hebrew  attitude.  It  stands  in  sharp  opposition  to  the 
dualism  of  God  and  the  world  which  w©  find  in  later 
Judaism,  and  in  the  Latin  stream  of  Christian  Theology. 

So  much  for  our  working  hypothesis.  Now  let  me  out- 
line the  way  it  will  be  tested.  Part  I  of  our  book  is  de- 
voted to  the  Universe  as  a  whole,  without  reference  to  the 
problem  of  the  individual.  The  antithesis  of  God  and 
His  creation  opened  an  unfortunate  gulf  between  the  re- 
ligious man  who  emphasized  God  and  the  scientist  study- 
ing the  material  world.  Is  the  Universe,  of  which  we  are 
a  part,  essentially  material  or  spiritual  ?  This  is  the  first 
of  the  five  specific  problems  w'ith  which  our  book  deals. 
We  find  a  provisional  answer  [^Chapter  2~\  in  the  new 
Physics,  with  its  electrical  explanation  of  Matter.  The 
collapse  of  physical  materialism  leaves  the  field  clear  for 
the  development  of  Jesus'  idea  of  God's  activity  in  Nature. 

This  conception  of  a  dynamic  Universe  is  common  both 
to  recent  Science  and  to  the  Christianity  of  Jesus.  IChap- 
ter  ^.]  The  idea  of  God  emerges  from  the  vagueness  of 
speculative  philosophy  and  practical  dualism.  If  we  see 
Him  at  work  in  Nature,  arguments  to  prove  the  existence 
of  a  Divine  Being  become  superfluous.  Religion,  in  its 
historic  development,  is  seen  as  part  of  man's  reaction  to 
the  world  in  which  he  is  placed,  his  attempt  to  adjust 
himself  to  the  Environment  and  come  into  practical  rela- 
tions with  it. 

I  call  special  attention  to  this  conception  of  Religion, 
which  I  regard  as  of  the  greatest  practical  and  theoretical 
importance.  The  recent  attempt  of  Durkheim,  Overstreet 
and  others  to  identify  God  with  Society,  is  mere  theoriz- 


xviii  mTRODUCTION 

\  ing.  "Society"  is  an  abstraction;  it  has  no  concrete  ex- 
istence outside  of  the  individuals  who  compose  it.  Man, 
in  his  religious  experience,  appears  to  be  dealing  with 
concrete  realities,  many  of  them  definitely  grounded  in 
his  physical  environment.  He  undoubtedly  projects  him- 
self on  the  Universe.  The  view  he  takes  of  God  is  shaped 
by  current  social  concepts.^  But  no  one  who  studies  the 
history  of  Eeligion  from  the  biological  standpoint,  would 
be  likely  to  develop  the  Society-God  theory.  One  is  led 
rather  to  the  Environment-God  hypothesis  which  I  have 
given.  There  is  much  truth  in  Leuba's  statement  that 
"God  is  not  known,  he  is  not  understood ;  he  is  used." 

I  leave  undetermined  the  theological  question  of  the 
relation  between  God  and  the  extra-human  Universe.  The 
whole  problem  of  Personality,  human  and  Divine,  I  hope 
to  discuss  in  a  later  book.  For  our  present  purpose  the 
question  is  not  material.  What  we  want  to  know  is 
whether  we  live  in  a  Chaos  or  a  Cosmos.  I  merely  adopt 
Jesus'  point  of  view,  as  I  interpret  it,  and  regard  the 
Universe  as  one  of  the  forms  in  which  God  reveals  Him- 
seK  to  men.  Christ  teaches  us  to  look  on  the  external 
world,  not  as  so  much  Matter  or  Force,  but  as  itself  a 
manifestation  of  the  God  he  interprets  to  us,  and  with 
Whom  he  brings  us  into  practical  relations.  This  position 
makes  the  Divine  Being  more  definite  and  real  than  where 
one  holds  to  a  sharp  dualism  of  God  and  the  world.  At 
the  same  time  it  brings  Religion,  Science  and  History  onto 
a  common  plane,  where  relation  and  logical  induction  are 
possible.  If,  at  some  points  in  the  book,  I  appear  to  iden- 
tify God  and  the  Universe,  this  use  of  language  is  intended 
as  rhetorical  rather  than  philosophical. 

To  resume  the  thread  of  my  argument,  Man  in  his  com- 
munion with  JSTature  [Chapter  U,  a  breathing  spell  from 
intellectual  problems],  has  found  therein  a  solace,  a  spir- 
itual symbolism,  and  a  mystical  exaltation. 

*See  my  Unfolding  Unwerse,  chap.  18,  The  Social  Stages  of  Re- 
ligion. 


IKTRODUCTION  lix 

Our  idea  of  the  Universe  has  been  enormously  expanded 
by  modem  Astronomy.  IChapter  5.]  This  introduces  a 
question  Ox  proportion,  with  regard  to  the  earth  and  man. 
IProhlem  &.]  The  external  world  is  still  a  unity.  And  in 
this  larger  perspective,  human  life  retains  its  intrinsic 
value.  The  evidence  at  hand  leads  us  to  reject  the  possi- 
bility of  other  inhabited  worlds,  from  which  the  life  of 
our,  planet  might  have  been  derived.  We  are  thus  thrown 
back  on  the  current  scientific  conception  of  life,  as  a  more 
complex  development  of  the  phenomena  which  we  know 
as  physical.  This  position  is  in  harmony  with  Jesus'  idea 
of  Matter  as  an  expression  of  God's  activity. 

The  long  evolution  of  life  on  our  planet  culminates  in 
the  appearance  of  Man.  [Chapter  6.]  Was  this  a  cosmic 
accident,  or  was  it  a  natural  result  of  the  forces  involved  ? 
In  other  words,  are  we  to  accept  the  Christian  postulate 
of  a  definite  goal  in  Creation?  IProhlem  c]  The  facts 
do  not  bear  out  the  idea  of  Ged  as  an  Engineer  operating 
upon  a  world  entirely  distinct  from  Himself.  Recent 
Biology,  however,  appears  entirely  consistent  with  a  dy- 
namic Universe  unfolding  from  within. 

In  Part  II  we  take  up  the  question  of  the  Individual. 
Is  the  Universe  a  strict  Monism,  in  which  the  individual 
human  being  is  submerged?  Or,  as  Christianity  affirms, 
has  the  Monism  of  the  extra-human  world  become  a  Plur- 
alism, a  Republic  of  cooperating  wills?  [Problem  d.~\ 
This  problem  is  of  so  much  practical  importance,  in  view 
of  certain  tendencies  toward  philosophical  absolutism  and 
religious  pantheism,  that  considerable  space  is  devoted  to 
it.  We  waste  no  time  discussing  such  abstract  questions 
as  the  nature  of  the  will,  or  freedom  versus  determinism. 
Taking  man  as  an  organism,  in  constant  interaction  with 
the  Universe  which  forms  his  Environment,  we  merely 
ask  what  difference  he  is  able  to  make  in  the  net  result. 
Man's  part  in  Creation  is  sketched,  and  the  nature  of 
various  human  functions  and  activities.  [Chapters  7  to 
12,']    We  find  cumulative  evidence  that  man,  in  his  men- 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

tal  life,  is  not  a  part  of  God,  but  rather  a  unit  actively 
cooperating  with  God. 

Part  III  deals  with  the  problem  of  Morality.  Is  the 
Universe  to  which  man  is  seeking  adjustment,  and  with 
whose  forces  he  is  cooperating,  to  be  considered  as  right- 
eous and  beneficent  ?  [Problem  e.]  Here  again  the  evi- 
dence is  sought  in  the  concrete  rather  than  the  abstract. 
Section  1  covers  Individual  Relations.  [Chapters  IS  to 
15.']  Through  a  study  of  human  behavior  we  seek  to 
determine  the  conditions  in  society  which  bring  to  the 
individual  the  most  favorable  reaction.  A  review  of  per- 
sonal and  business  relations  shows  that  man  is  succeeding 
in  proportion  to  his  recognition  of  character  and  mutual 
service.  Altruism,  in  the  sense  of  trust  and  goodwill,  is 
seen  to  be  an  outgrowth  of  natural  human  instincts,  which 
form  the  basis  of  our  social  and  economic  life.  Similarly, 
self-control,  honesty  and  justice  must  be  regarded  as  com- 
munity assets.  Jesus  appears  to  be  justified  in  extending 
honor  and  goodwill  from  narrower  groups  to  society  as  a 
whole.  His  conception  of  the  laws  and  conditions  of  the 
Universe  is  thus  confirmed.  Human  society  becomes  a 
higher  form  of  cooperation  between  men  and  God,  which 
finds  expression  in  the  Christian  conception  of  Prayer. 
[Chapter  16,] 

This  idea  of  righteousness  and  goodwill  as  expressing 
the  character  of  the  Universe,  must  be  tested  in  the  field 
of  broader  human  relations.  The  case  method  of  Be- 
havior Psychology  enables  us  to  study  modem  Industry 
objectively  and  without  conscious  bias.  [Section  2,  Chap- 
ters 11  to  19.]  Our  object  is  to  determine  the  industrial 
conditions  which  have  produced  the  most  favorable  physi- 
cal and  moral  reaction  on  the  part  of  the  worker.  The 
failure  of  exploitation,  whether  on  the  side  of  Capital  or 
Labor,  and  the  success  that  has  followed  experiments  along 
the  line  of  common  interest,  give  strong  confirmation  to 
Jesus'  interpretation  of  the  world. 

In  applying  to  the  life  of  Nations  [Section  S,  Chapters 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

20  to  23']  the  same  psychology  of  Behavior,  we  are  break- 
ing ground  in  a  new  field.  The  brief  study  which  we  are 
able  to  make  of  national  aggression,  colonial  management, 
and  the  treatment  of  other  peoples,  indicates  reactions 
parallel  to  those  in  the  industrial  group.  This  result,  even 
if  only  tentative,  is  of  the  greatest  importance.  From  a 
pra9tical  standpoint,  the  object  of  a  nation  must  be  to 
act  so  as  to  secure  favorable  reactions  from  other  nations 
or  from  subject  races.  Turning  to  theory,  we  see  that 
there  are  moral  laws  of  the  Universe,  which,  like  the  laws 
of  mechanics  or  the  laws  of  health,  may  be  learned  through 
experience  and  experiment.  And  these  laws  apply  to 
nations  as  well  as  to  individuals.  The  growth  of  commerce 
has  brought  a  rapid  unification  of  the  world.  \_Chapter 
2Jf,']  In  national  relations,  whether  official  or  unofficial, 
the  Christian  principle  of  common  interest  finds  increas- 
ing application. 

Summing  up  the  evidence. [Oi^ap^er  25],  we  find  that 
the  Christian  attitude  toward  the  Universe  is  essential  to 
modern  civilization.  Social  progress  is  an  achievement 
rather  than  an  evolution.  Through  a  slow  and  painful 
struggle,  the  race  is  learning  to  adjust  itself  to  its  Envir- 
onment. The  advance  which  has  come  through  man's 
knowledge  and  control  of  physical  forces,  only  brings  into 
sharper  relief  his  relative  failure  to  know  and  control  the 
moral  forces  of  the  Universe.  The  true  function  of  the 
individual  is  found  in  his  position  as  an  independent  and 
cooperating  unit.  He  is  partner  in  a  democratic  cosmic 
enterprise.  And  the  objective  of  the  age-long  cooperation 
between  Man  and  God  is  the  developing  of  human  per- 
sonalities. Promise  of  advance  along  this  line  is  seen  in 
the  lengthening  of  human  life,  the  spread  of  democracy, 
and  the  social  solidarity  introduced  by  the  Industrial  era. 

And  now,  having  spread  out  the  menu,  and  as  I  trust 
whetted  the  reader's  appetite  for  what  is  to  follow,  let  us 
on  with  the  dinner. 


CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 


CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 


peeliminary:    jesus'  view  op  the  universe 

When  the  scientist  faces  a  problem,  he  forms  a  working 
hypothesis,  and  tests  this  by  further  observation  and  ex- 
periment. In  considering  the  question  of  Chaos  or  Cos- 
mos, I  propose  to  follow  the  same  method.  We  shall  start 
with  the  idea  that  the  Universe  is  an  ordered  Cosmos. 
To  make  the  idea  more  definite,  let  us  take  as  its  repre- 
sentative the  consistent  and  thorough-going  statement 
found  in  Christianity.  The  present  chapter  will  develop 
this  hypothesis  in  some  detail.  In  the  remainder  of  the 
book,  we  shall  be  occupied  with  testing  Christianity  as  a 
working  theory. 

The  place  to  study  the  Christian  idea  of  the  Universe 
is  at  its  source.  Increasingly  there  is  borne  in  upon  the 
student  the  freshness,  the  modemness  of  Jesus.  Though 
the  imagery  of  his  statement  is  ancient  and  Oriental,  he 
seems  to  think  much  as  we  do  today.  This  impression 
is  not  merely  subjective,  or  a  result  of  our  recovery  of  the 
real  Christ,  beneath  the  whitewash  of  dogma.  !N'or  is  it 
enough  to  say  that  the  universal  form  in  which  Jesus' 
teaching  is  cast,  has  led  each  age  to  think  of  him  as  mod- 
em, from  its  own  viewpoint.  We  think  in  similar  terms, 
because  the  world  of  today  is  facing  many  of  the  same 
social  conditions  and  problems  which  Jesus  faced  in  the 
Roman  Empire  of  the  first  century.  Again,  our  modem 
world  is  largely  his  creation.     The  civilization  developed 

1 


2  ,;;,.;  l  "chaos  ob  cosmos? 

in -Europe'  since  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages  owes  to  Jesus 
many  of  its  formative  ideas  and  emphases.  Once  more, 
the  progress  of  the  natural  and  social  sciences  during  the 
past  few  years,  has  confirmed  in  a  striking  way  certain  of 
Christ's  most  fundamental  positions,  as  will  appear  in 
later  chapters.  Whatever  the  source  of  Jesus'  teaching, 
the  Master  of  men,  to  whom  we  trace  our  Christian  civili- 
zation, must  rank  as  one  of  the  great  leaders,  not  only  in 
Religion  and  Ethics,  hut  in  Constructive  Thought. 

Jesus  was  not  a  philosopher  in  the  professional  sense. 
He  was  unfamiliar  with  the  methods  and  teaching  of  the 
Greek  schools.  His  interests  were  practical  rather  than 
theoretical.  But  in  working  out  a  program  for  the  better- 
ment of  humanity,  he  has  given  us  the  outlines  of  a  well- 
rounded  theory  of  the  world,  an  hypothesis  capable  of 
practical  testing  and  proof. 

Questions  of  literary  criticism  cause  little  difficulty. 
Leaving  out  parallel  passages,  probably  seventy-five  per 
cent  of  the  material  could  be  rejected,  without  affecting 
the  net  result.  Jesus'  main  principles  are  found  in  all 
our  sources.  Comparative  study  enables  us  to  make  allow- 
ance for  editorial  revision,  and  for  the  bias  with  which 
his  words  are  reported  by  one  or  another.  The  chief  prob- 
lem is  to  rid  ourselves  of  preconceived  ideas  and  of  theo- 
logical bias.  Some  appreciation  of  Oriental  imagery  is 
needed,  and  a  strong  sense  of  humor,  since  many  of  Jesus' 
statements  are  in  the  form  of  droll  exaggeration.  Follow- 
ing Jiilicher's  warning,  the  parables  must  be  used  pri- 
marily for  the  truths  they  were  intended  to  teach,  and 
only  with  great  reserve  for  indications  of  Jesus'  attitude 
on  other  questions.  In  many  instances  we  find  phrases 
and  images  which  appear  inconsistent  with  Christ's  gen- 
eral philosophy  of  life.  If  correctly  reported,  he  used 
them  either  because  they  were  current,  and  so  an  excellent 
vehicle  for  teaching,  or  because  his  thought  had  not  been 
worked  out  in  logical  detail. 

We  are  concerned  only  with  the  philosophical  or  social 


PKELIMINAKY:  JESUS^  VIEW  OF  UNIVERSE     3 

aspects  of  Jesus'  teaching.  These  however  made  up  the 
bulk  of  his  interest.  He  talks  of  God  not  as  Pure  Being, 
but  in  relation  to  men.  Personal  salvation  is  closely 
wrapped  up  with  one's  part  in  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
Jesus  assumes  a  future  life,  but  his  immediate  concern  is 
with  the  present  life.  I  distinguish  five  main  principles, 
around  which  his  teachings  may  be  grouped. 

1.  The  world  in  which  we  live  is  Divine.  God  is  here. 
We  can  detect  His  presence  in  Nature,  and  in  human  life. 
His  rule  is  a  fact  of  daily  experience. 

Let  us  look  first  at  Jesus'  attitude  toward  E"ature.  His 
teachings  are  full  of  loving  references  to  the  natural  world, 
which  show  how  closely  he  had  observed  it,  how  much  it 
meant  to  him.  The  sunset,  the  lightning,  the  mustard 
seed,  the  harvest,  the  nesting  birds,  the  foxes — these  form 
the  basis  for  his  homely  parables  and  figures  of  speech. 
Prom  the  pages  of  the  natural  world,  Jesus  reads  the  story 
of  the  spiritual  world.  The  wind  blowing  where  it  listeth 
is  not  merely  a  wind.  It  tells  him  of  the  breath,  the  spirit 
of  God,  coming,  going.  Sheep  on  the  hillside  are  more 
than  sheep;  they  are  the  poor  humans  he  is  trying  to 
shepherd.  The  branches  of  the  grape  suggest  the  vital 
relations  between  men  and  God. 

It  is  to  Nature  that  Jesus  turns  when  he  wishes  to  be 
alone,  alone  with  God.  He  seeks  out  some  mountain,  some 
wilderness,  some  lonely  garden.  There  he  wrestles  with 
temptation ;  there  he  renews  his  strength ;  there  he  agonizes 
in  the  crises  of  his  life.  Often  Jesus  takes  the  disciples 
with  him.  "Come  away  to  some  wild  spot,"  he  says,  "and 
rest  awhile."  ^  Peter's  confession  is  brought  out  amid 
the  mountain  scenes  near  Csesarea  Philippi.  This  com- 
munion with  God  through  God's  world  appears  to  have 
been  a  habit  with  Jesus. 

Not  only  is  the  physical  world  symbolic.     Not  only  is 
Nature  a  solace,  and  its  silences  the  best  approach  to  God. 
But  this  natural  world  itself  is  God's  world,  throbbing 
»Mk.  6:31. 


4  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

with  Divine  life,  filled  with  God's  activity,  revealing  the 
loving  Father's  thought  and  care.  It  is  God  who  adorns 
the  lilies.  The  sparrows  are  fed  by  Him;  not  one  falls 
to  the  ground  without  the  Father.  For  Jesus,  as  Stapfer 
has  said,  the  natural  world  is  transparent,  and  through 
every  part  of  it,  every  event,  shows  the  Divine  Face.  Not 
an  impersonal  First  Cause.  Not  an  absentee  God.  But  the 
Father,  living,  near,  beneficent.  This  attitude  toward  the 
Universe  has  its  practical  side.  Though  sharing  the  limi- 
tations of  our  common  humanity,  the  Master  does  not 
despair  of  his  daily  bread,  even  when  there  is  no  visible 
means  of  its  coming,  shows  no  fear  in  the  face  of  the  tem- 
pest on  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  never  sees  in  Nature  anything 
terrible  or  cruel. 

This  note  is  heard  frequently  in  earlier  Hebrew  litera- 
ture. Something  of  the  same  mystical  element  was  un- 
doubtedly present  in  the  Pharisaic  teaching,  at  its  best,^ 
But  the  average  pious  Jew  of  Jesus'  day  appears  to  have 
held  a  dualism  of  God  and  His  world,  which  tended  to- 
ward externalism  and  materialism.  God  lived  above  the 
sky,  far  removed  from  the  world  of  His  creation.  This 
holy  and  awful  Being,  whose  very  name  was  too  sacred  to 
speak,  acted  on  the  world  through  His  "Spirit,"  "Wis- 
dom," or  other  intermediary.  His  intercourse  with  men 
was  carried  on  by  angel  messengers.  God's  will  was  law. 
And  this  Law  had  been  revealed  in  sacred  writings,  which, 
by  statement  or  inference,  regulated  the  life  of  the  chosen 
people  in  its  minutest  detail.  For  the  common  man,  the 
emphasis,  both  in  worship  and  conduct,  was  on  the  exter- 
nal and  physical.  Religion  was  to  him  no  longer  a  joy, 
a  good  news,  but  a  system  of  forms  and  rules,  which  only 
the  elect  few  were  able  to  learn  or  carry  out  in  their  com- 
pleteness. 

Views  as  to  the  future  were  various  and  changing. 

'See  R.  T.  Herford,  Pharisaism,  1912;  C.  G.  Montefiori,  Some 
Elements  of  the  Religious  Teaching  of  Jesus,  1910;  S.  Schechter, 
Some  Aspects  of  Talmudic  Theol.,  1910. 


PEELIMINAEY:  JESUS'  VIEW  OF  UNIVERSE     5 

Man's  life  practically  ceased  with  the  death  of  the  body, 
though  the  soul  was  considered  to  be  sleeping,  or  continu- 
ing* a  shadowy  existence  of  happiness  or  misery  in  the 
underworld.  In  the  Resurrection,  however,  the  body 
would  be  revitalized  and  take  part  in  its  old  activities.^ 
The  good  Jews  would  reign  with  the  Messiah  in  a  glorified 
but  still  earthly  Jerusalem.*  The  godless  would  be  cast 
into  darkness  and  never-dying  fire,  either  in  Jerusalem's 
city  dump  in  the  Gehenna  valley,  or  in  some  celestial 
parallel.  Further  speculation  had  begun  to  merge  the 
national  hope  into  a  world  conflict  between  God  and  Satan. 
Present  and  future  stood  in  sharper  antithesis.  With  the 
final  victory  for  the  Kingdom  of  God,  the  sky  and  earth 
would  pass  away.  In  their  place  would  come  a  new  order 
of  existence,  still  conceived  as  material  in  many  of  its  fea- 
tures. The  heavenly  Paradise,  where  the  saints  would 
dwell  with  God,  was  to  be  separated  by  a  great  gulf  from 
the  abode  of  the  wicked.  As  yet  the  earth  remained  in 
the  hands  of  demons  and  other  powers  of  Darkness,  who 
were  the  cause  of  sickness,  Roman  tyranny,  and  other 
human  woes.  There  was  little  hope  of  improvement,  ex- 
cept through  the  intervention  of  God  on  a  cataclysmic 
scale.' 

Jesus'  spiritualistic  philosophy  is  in  striking  contrast. 
God  is  Himself  the  ever-present  Spirit,  who  may  be  wor- 
shipped in  any  place. ^  He  sees  in  secret,  and  is  interested 
in  attitude  and  motive  rather  than  external  forms.''  Jesus 
makes  it  clear  that  moral  uncleanness  is  of  the  thought, 
not  of  the  hands.^  Our  relations  with  God  are  personal ;  ^ 
they  are  not  on  a  business  basis. ^^     He  is  the  giver  of 

•Compare  the  Sadducees'  reduction  to  absurdity  in  Mk.  12:18-23. 

*Matt.  20:21;  Acts  1:6. 

■See  W.  Bousset,  Relig.  des  Judentums  im  neutestamentUche 
Zeitalter,  1903.  An  excellent  summary  is  given  by  G.  Hollmann, 
Jewish  Relig.  in  the  Time  of  Christy  Eng.  trans.,  1909. 

•Jn.  4:21-24;  Matt.  18:19-20. 

'Matt.  6:21-37;   6:1-18;  Mk.  2:23-27. 

•Mk.  7:14-23;  Lu.  11:37-41.     Cf.  Matt.  5:27-28. 

•Matt.  6:1-18.  ^oMatt.  20:1-15. 


6  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

food,"  of  health/^  of  life/^  of  character,^*  of  wis- 
dom. ^^  The  test  of  living  is  life.^^  Spirit  is  vastly  more 
important  than  body.^*^  The  only  death  with  which  Jesus 
is  specially  concerned  is  the  loss  of  character. ^^  Life  will 
go  right  on  without  a  break/ ^  future  existence  being  an 
emancipation  of  man^s  spirit  from  the  limitations  which 
the  body  imposes.  ^^ 

For  Jesus,  the  kingdom  or  rule  of  God  is  not  merely  a 
hope  and  an  ideal,  but  a  present  reality.  It  is  at  hand,^^ 
actually  among  men.^*^  People  are  pressing  into  it.^^  The 
Kingdom  is  the  world's  harvest  field,^^  the  seed  of  the 
future,^^  the  thing  of  greatest  present  value,^^  the  first 
claim  on  a  man's  interest.^^  Already  it  belongs  to  the 
receptive  in  spirit,  and  to  those  who  have  suffered  for  the 
great  cause. ^^  Jesus  recognizes  the  weaknesses  and  fail- 
ures of  humanity,  in  the  world  as  we  find  it.^^  But  his 
vision  of  the  rule  of  God  already  begun,  his  confidence  in 
its  future  triumph,^^  has  made  him  the  great  optimist  of 
history.  We  find  denunciation  and  plain  speaking,  on 
occasion,  but  no  trace  of  cynicism,  or  of  the  censoriousness 
that  so  often  characterizes  the  reformer. 

"Matt.  6:11;  Mk.  6:41. 
"Mk.  9:29. 

»Jn.*  10:10;   5:40;   14:19. 
"Matt.  6:13. 
^''Matt.  10:19-20. 
"Matt.  7:15-27. 

"Matt:   4:4;   6:25;  Lu.  12:15;  Jn.  3:6. 
"Matt.   10:28;   Jn.  6:63. 

"Mk.    12:26-27;    Jn.    5:24;    8:51;    14:1-3;    11:23-26,    a   striking 
contrast  with  the  current  Jewish  view  of  resurrection. 
»Mk.  12:24-25. 
«Mk.  1:15;  Lu.  10:11. 
"Lu.   17:20-21;   Matt.   12:28;    11:11. 
»Lu.  16:16;  Matt.  11:12. 
«Matt.   13:37-38. 
"Matt.  13:31-32;  Mk.  4:26-29. 
"•Matt.  13:44-46. 
"Matt.  6:33. 
*Matt.  5:3,  10. 
»Matt.   13:18-30;  Lu.  17:1. 
••Mk.  9:1;  Matt.  26:29;  Lu.  10:17-18;  21:27-28. 


PKELIMmAEY:  JESUS^  VIEW  OP  UNIVERSE     7 

With  Jesus'  sense  of  God's  real  presence,  goes  a  joy  in 
living,  an  appreciation  of  wholesome  physical  pleasure,  a 
love  of  social  fellowship,  a  breadth  and  fulness  of  life, 
which  remind  us  of  the  Greek  religion  at  its  best.  Such 
an  attitude  is  like  a  burst  of  sunlight,  by  contrast  with 
the  austerity  of  John  the  Baptist,  or  the  cold  formalism 
of  the  average  scribe. ^^  Asceticism  appears  out  of  place 
in  Christ's  religion.  ^^  He  recognizes  scholarship,  and 
endorses  the  search  for  truth.  ^^  He  shows  the  true  gentle- 
man's regard  for  proper  conventions.^^  This  genial  temper 
made  Jesus  welcome  with  people  of  all  classes.  Combined 
with  his  self -forgetful  service,  it  brought  him  a  personal 
popularity  that  often  proved  embarrassing.^^ 

2.  Creation  is  incomplete.  The  Divine  Universe  is  a 
thing  of  slow  hut  certain  growth.  This  idea  of  develop- 
ment is  suggested  by  Jesus  in  a  number  of  passages.  He 
himself  applies  it  in  fulfilling,  that  is  spiritualizing,  the 
Mosaic  code.^^  Christianity  is  a  new  garment,  not  a  mere 
patching  of  the  old.^''  The  Kingdom  of  God  is  like  yeast, 
like  the  mustard  seed,^^  the  growing  wheat. ^^  To  him  that 
hath  will  be  given.^^    God's  spiritual  order  increases  like 

money  well  invested ;  ^^  it  represents  a  gradual  achieve- 
ment.*2 

3.  This  unfolding  Universe  taJces  its  character  from 
*God.^^    Jesus  represents  and  reveals  Eim,^^    We  are  left 

"Matt.  11:16-19;  Jn.  10:10;   16:11. 

'"Matt.    9:14-15;    6:16-18. 

"Matt.  13:52;   Jn.  16:12-13;  8:32. 

"Lu.  7:36-50;  dress,  Jn.  19:23;  church  dues,  Matt.  17:24-27. 
Contrast  with  fasting,  Lu.  5:33-39;  ablution,  Mk.  7:1-23;  Sabbath, 
Mk.   2:23-3:6. 

^ITk.  2:15;"  12:37;  5:24;  1:36-38;  Jn.  12:12-19;  6:15. 

"Matt.  5:21-37;   19:8. 

"Mk.  2:21.     Cf.  Matt.  11:11. 

"Matt.  13:31-33. 

»  Mk.  4 :  26-29 ;  Jn.  12 :  24 ;  Matt.  13 : 3-9,  24-30. 

^Mk.  4:25. 

«Matt.  25:14-30;   Lu.  19:12-27. 

«Matt.  6:10;  Lu.  10:9;  11:20. 

*»Matt.  6:25-33. 

**Matt.  10:32-33,  40;  Lu,  10:22;  Mk.  9:37;  Jn.  6:17-47;  14:9. 


8  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

with  a  very  definite  picture  of  the  moral  order  in  the 
world. 

God  is  on  the  side  of  integrity."*^  Those  who  hunger 
and  thirst  for  righteousness  will  be  satisfied.*^  Purity  of 
thought  is  the  door  to  God.*^  He  stands  for  justice,*^  for 
fidelity,^^  for  courage,^®  for  self-control,^^  for  honorable 
peace, ^^  for  consideration.^^ 

The  heavenly  Father  loves,  and  expects  love  in  return.'** 
God  is  not  a  Despot,  but  the  daily,  hourly  servant  of 
humanity.^^  He  shows  special  interest  in  childhood.^®  He 
sympathizes  with  hunger,^''  with  exhausting  labor, ^^  with 
poverty, ^^  with  worry  and  fear.^^  God  has  compassion 
on  the  ignorant  and  unorganized,^^  on  the  sick,^^  the 
handicapped,^^  the  sorrowing,^*  the  sinful.^^  In  fact  He 
identifies  Himself  with  human  weakness  and  need.®^  God 
yearns  to  save.^^  He  expects  men  to  share  His  sacrifice.^^ 
Good  deeds  are  an  advertisement  of  the  Divine  order  in 
the  world.«9 

God's  world  is  essentially  social.     Jesus'  hope  is  that 

«Matt.  5:17-20,  48  j  21:12-13. 

-Matt.  6:6. 

«Matt.  5:8,  27-32. 

«Mk.  7:6-13;   Matt.  5:23-24;   23:1-36. 

^Lu.  12:35-48;  Matt.  25:21. 

"Matt.  5:10-12;   10:22,  38. 

*^Matt.  6:21-22. 

"Matt.  6:9,  25-26. 

"Matt.  5:7;   6:14-15;  Lu.  6:36. 

"Matt.  22:37-38;    Jn.   14:21. 

"Matt.  5:44-45;   6:25-33;   7:7-11;   Lu.  22:24-27. 

"Lu.  18:15-17;   17:2;  Matt.  18:10,  14. 

"Mk.  8:2;  Matt.  25:35. 

"Matt.   11:28-30.     Cf.  Mk.  6:3;  Jn.  5:17. 

"Lu.  6:20;   Matt.   11:5;   25:36. 

"Matt.  6:25-34;  Lu.  12:4-7;  Jn.  14:27. 

«Matt.  9:36. 

"Mk.  5:22-34;   Matt.  25:36. 

"Jn.  9:1-39;  Matt.  9:27-30. 

"Matt.  5:4;  Lu.  7:13;  Jn.  11:33-36. 

"Matt.  9:10-13;  Lu.  7:47-50. 

"Mk.  9:37;  Matt.  25:45. 

"Lu.  15:1-32. 

"Matt.   16:24;   Jn.   12:25-26. 

•Matt.  6:13-16. 


PJRELIMIISrARY:  JESUS^  VIEW  OF  UNIVERSE     9 

men  may  be  united  with  one  another  and  with  God.''^  The 
model  prayer  is  addressed  to  "our  Father,"  not  "my 
Father."  This  term  itself  is  full  of  social  suggestion.  The 
sins  with  which  Jesus  is  specially  concerned  are  those  that 
tend  to  break  up  the  Divine  family:  hatred,  lust,  pride, 
covetousness,  censoriousness,  bad  influence,  selfishness,  in- 
justice.''^  The  "unpardonable  sin"  is  shown  by  the  con- 
text to  be  the  denial  of  the  spirit  of  service.''^  God's  pro- 
gram for  the  world  is  a  social  program.''^  The  term  "King- 
dom of  God"  occurs  over  a  hundred  times  in  the  gospels, 
including  parallels.  Jesus'  use  of  the  phrase  suggests  a 
republic  rather  than  an  absolute  monarchy.*^*  Religious 
institutions  are  of  value  to  the  Father  in  proportion  to 
their  value  for  man.*^^ 

God's  interest,  however,  is  in  the  individual  and  not  the 
mass.'^^  Salvation  is  no  national  or  racial  reunion."^^  He 
feels  as  the  shepherd  does  toward  the  one  lost  sheep  out 
of  the  flock  of  a  hundred,  or  the  housewife  toward  the  single 
coin."^^  The  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  numbered.''^  The 
human  soul  outweighs  the  whole  material  world.^°  One 
little  child  may  represent  God,  as  the  object  of  our  serv- 
ice. ^^  The  individual  will  persist  after  the  death  of  the 
body.^^  This  emphasis  in  Jesus'  teaching  corresponds 
with  his  own  case  method.  One  of  the  Master's  great 
achievements  was  his  valuation  of  the  individual,  not 
merely  as  a  social  unit,  but  for  his  own  sake,  as  a  child 
of  God. 

"Jn.  14:15-20;   17:11,  23. 

"See  Matt.  5:21-48;  18:1-9;  23:1-36;  25:31-46. 

"Matt.  12:22-32. 

"Lu.  4:16-21;   7:18-23. 

"Matt.  17:24-26. 

"  Mk.  2 :  27-28 ;  Matt.  12 : 1-8. 

"Matt.  18:5-6,  12-14. 

"Matt.  8:10-12;  Jn.  8:33-44. 

"Lu.  15:1-10. 

"Matt.  10:29-31. 

»Matt.  12:12;  vl6: 26. 

«Matt.  10:42;  18:5;  25:40. 

"Jn.  5:28-29.     Cf,  Lu.  16:19-31. 


10  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

4.  The  completion  of  the  world  requires  the  cooperation 
of  the  Father  and  His  human  sons.  At  one  end  of  this 
relation,  fruitful  living  demands  close  touch  with  God.^^ 
Human  intelligence  depends  on  God-given  intuition.^*  He 
is  the  source  of  all  possessions  and  endowments.^^  It  is 
God's  Spirit  which  must  change  the  unsocial  man  into  a 
good  man.^^ 

On  the  other  hand,  human  activity  and  enterprise  are 
essential.^ "^  Deeds  are  the  road  to  truth,  to  love,  to  sta- 
bility of  character.^  ^  Jesus  makes  the  disciples  partners 
in  his  program.^^  He  shares  to  some  degree  his  remark- 
able control  over  natural  forces,^^  and  over  the  human 
body.^^  Faith  on  the  part  of  the  patient  is  a  condition  of 
Divine  healing.^^  It  is  the  attitude  of  trust  which  gives 
free  access  to  God's  riches  and  power.^^  Practical  social 
service  is  expected  of  every  man,  in  the  course  of  the  day's 
work.^*  The  realization  of  God's  rule  is  wrapped  up  with 
such  human  endeavors.  ^^  Workmen  are  encouraged  to 
yoke  up  with  God.^® 

Providence  is  cooperative.  The  man  bom  blind  is  not 
a  case  of  kismet;  he  was  not  being  punished  for  his  sins 
or  those  of  his  parents.  His  blindness  was  there  to  be 
cured.  It  was  a  defect  in  God's  world  which  God  was 
eager  to  see  remedied. ^"^  An  accident  calls  for  repentance 
on  the  part  of  the  community.^^     Increased  food  supply 

"Jn.  15:1-8. 

"Mk.  13:11;   Jn.   16:7-13. 

"Matt.  6:33;  25:14-30. 

»Jn.  3:3-5;  Matt.  12:32-35. 

•"Matt.  7:7-8. 

"Jn.  7:17;    14:21;    Matt.   7:21-27. 

"Jn.    17:18;    Matt.  28:18-20. 

•»Mk.   11:20-23;   Jn.  14:12;   Lu.   10:19. 

"Matt.   10:1,  8;  Lu.  10:9. 

•"Matt.  9:22,  29,  etc. 

"Matt.  6:25,  33;   Mk.  11:22-24. 

••Matt.   25:31-46;    Lu.    10:25-37;    Matt.    10:42. 

"Matt.  6:10;    10:7-8. 

"Matt.  11:28-30. 

•»  Jn.  9:1-5. 

"Lu.  13:1-5. 


PEELIMINAEY:  JESUS'  VIEW  OF  UNIVERSE    11 

requires  human  cooperation.^^  Man  has  a  part  in  for- 
giveness/^^ in  sweetening  human  relations.^  ^^  Marriage 
is  a  sacred  relationship,  to  be  shared  by  all  who  are  able 
to  share  it.  The  alternative  is  absolute  control  over  sexual 
instincts  and  imaginations.^  ^^  Men  will  be  held  respon- 
sible for  wrong  moral  conditions,  particularly  in  the  case 
of  the  young.  ^^^ 

Prayer  is  the  recognition  of  this  partnership  between 
man  and  God  in  the  making  of  a  world.  "Our  Father, 
may  Thy  Kingdom  come;  may  Thy  will  be  done,  Thy 
plans  followed,  by  me  and  by  my  brother  men."  ^^*  We 
do  not  need  to  secure  God's  attention  or  influence  His 
^jjjios  Prayer  is  not  to  give  God  information.  The 
Father  is  so  close  to  us  that  He  knows  what  things  we 
have  need  of  before  we  ask  Him.  He  wishes  us  to  ask, 
because  asking  is  a  proof  of  our  interest.-'^^^  To  pray  for 
other  persons  means  sharing  His  attitude  toward  those 
persons.  ^^^  The  communion  with  God  in  prayer  is  direct 
and  personal.^ ^^  It  is  the  cooperation  of  two  harmonious 
wills.  When  our  plans  coincide  with  His,  there  is  no 
limit  to  the  possibilities  of  prayer.  Whatever  we  ask  in 
Christ's  name,  that  is  in  his  spirit,  we  shall  receive.  ^^^ 

5.  Because  of  the  character  of  the  Universe  and  the 
solidarity  of  human  society,  it  pays  to  he  brotherly  and 
filial. 

No  man  lives  to  himself  alone.  Even  our  daily  speech 
has  eternal  consequences. ^^^    The  world  owes  its  preserva- 

"'Mk.  6:37-38;  Jn.  6:8-9;  Lu.  5:4-7. 
*«»Mk.   11:25;   Matt.   18:15-18;   Jn.  20:21-23. 
i*«Matt.  5:38-48. 

^'^Matt.  19:3-12;  Mk.  10:2-12;  Matt.  5:27-32,  8. 
"»Matt.  18:7-14. 
*'**Matt.   6:9-10. 
^''^Matt.  6:7. 

^~  Matt."  6  :'8 ;  7:7-11;  Lu.  18 : 1-8. 
^•"Matt.  5:44-45;  Lu.  23:34. 

^"'Matt.  6:6;  Lu.  18:9-14.    Compare  Jesus'  own  prayers,  as  given 
in  Matt.  11:25-26;  Lu.  22:42;  23:34,  46. 
^~Mk.  11:24-25;  Jn.  14:13;  15:7. 
""Matt.  12:33-37. 


12  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

tion  and  its  light,  or  the  opposite,  to  our  influence.*  ^^ 
Actions  return  to  us  in  kind.**^  Mercy  and  forgiveness 
are  reciprocal.**^  What  affects  one  affects  all.  Each  child 
of  the  common  Father  is  taught  to  pray :  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread;  not.  Give  me  this  day  my  daily  bread. 
"Not  simply,  Forgive  me  my  sins,  the  debts  I  have  not 
paid;  but,  Forgive  us  our  sins,  the  sins  of  our  common 
humanity  the  world  over,  which  weaken  and  impoverish 
us  all.  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from 
evil."* 

Jesus  advocates  what  might  be  termed  the  higher 
selfishness.  The  great  law  of  human  relations  is  that  you 
should  feel  toward  your  neighbor  and  his  interests  as  you 
do  toward  yourself  and  your  own  interests,  that  you 
should  change  places  with  him,  in  imagination,  and  treat 
him  as  you  would  have  him  treat  you.**^  Hatred  is 
damning.**^  We  are  to  love  our  neighbors  as  ourselves.**'' 
And  to  love  one's  neighbor  is  simply  to  make  his  welfare 
a  common  concern.***  To  find  our  life  we  must  lose  it.**^ 
The  way  to  receive  is  not  to  grasp  but  to  give.  Because 
to  give  is  to  secure  the  goodwill  of  those  around  you,  and 
this  in  turn  will  lead  to  practical  and  substantial  ex- 
pressions of  goodwill.*^^ 

Jesus  teaches  the  folly  of  revenge.  You  never  will  over- 
come evil,  he  says,  by  further  evil,  blow  for  blow,  injus- 
tice for  injustice.  You  only  make  matters  worse.  You 
pile  two  evils  on  the  back  of  the  community  instead  of 
one,  take  a  second  angry  man  out  of  the  ranks  of  ef- 
ficiency.    To  submit  to  a  blow  or  a  personal  injustice  is 

^Matt.   5:13-16;    Lu.   11:33-36.     Cf,  Matt.   18:7-14. 

«"Matt.  7:1-5;  Lu.  6:37-38. 

"'Matt.  5:7;   6:14-15;   18:21-35. 

"*Matt.  6:9-13;  Lu.  11:1-4. 

>«Matt.  7:12-14;  Lu.  6:31. 

"«Matt.  5:21-22. 

"'Matt.  22:39;  Jn.  13:34-35. 

""Lu.  10:25-37. 

""Matt.  10:39. 

^Lu.  6:38.*    Cf.  Mk.  9:41;  Matt.  6:31-33. 


PKELIMINARY:  JESUS'  VIEW-  OF  UNIVERSE     13 

often  better  than  to  resist.  There  is  less  provocation  for 
further  blows;  there  are  fewer  wounds  to  heal.^^^  The 
only  final  remedy  for  wrong  is  to  admit  our  enemy  or  our 
rival  into  the  order  of  goodwill.  ^"^^ 

The  lust  for  wealth  or  power  or  display,  for  their  own 
sake,  is  out  of  place  in  God^s  spiritual  order.  Pride  is 
ridiculous,  to  any  one  with  a  strong  sense  of  humor.^^* 
Covetousness  is  tragic.^^*  A  man's  life  does  not  consist 
in  the  number  of  things  which  he  owns.^^'^  The  standard 
of  living  may  be  raised  so  high  that  possession  becomes  a 
burden.  There  are  higher  values,  which  cannot  be  stolen 
or  corroded  or  eaten  by  moths,  and  which  may  be  pr^ 
served  without  constant  care  and  worry.^^^  Our  heart 
follows  our  investment.  ^^"^  Jesus  himself  spurns  the  temp- 
tation of  easy  money. -^^^  For  the  sake  of  freedom,  he 
practices  the  simple  life,^^^  and  commends  it  to  others.^^** 
Wealth  is  full  of  subtle  temptations. ^^^  What  does  it 
profit,  to  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  your  soul  ?  ^^^  A 
divided  allegiance  is  impossible;  we  cannot  serve  God  and 
Gold.^^^  Money  may  prove  an  impossible  handicap,  to 
one  seeking  character,  usefulness  and  happiness.  ^^* 
Human  rights  transcend  the  rights  of  property. ^^^  The 
workman  has  a  right  to  his  wages,^^^  and  the  business  man 
to  a  reward  for  i^eoial  ability  and  initiative.  ^^''^  Inef- 
ficiency is  a  disgrace.  ^^^  But  the  sense  of  service  rendered 
transcends  the  pay.^^^  !N'o  labor  of  man  or  woman  need 
be  mere  drudgery.  ^**^    Fidelity  should  be  a  by-product  of 

^Lu.  6:29-30;  Matt.  5:38-42,  21-26. 

"2 Matt.  5:43-48;   Lu.  6:27-36. 

"3  Matt.  6:2,  16,  undoubtedly  exaggeration. 

"*Lu.   12:13-21. 

"»Lu.  12:15.  »»Matt.  6:24. 

"•Matt.  6:19-20.  "*Mk.  10:17-25;  Lu.  14:33. 

"»Matt.  6:21.  ««Lu.  8:26-37. 

»» Matt.  4:8-11.  "-Lu.  10:7. 

«»Matt.  8:20.  ^Matt.  25:14-23. 

""Lu.  10:40-42.  ""Matt.  25:24-30. 

>«Matt.  13:22.  "»Lu.  17:7-10. 

"»Mk.  8:36-37.  ""Lu.  10:38-42. 


14  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

every  business.^^^  All  possession  involves  stewardship. ^^^ 
The  chief  value  of  money  is  to  make  friends,  not  by  cor- 
rupting but  by  enriching  the  lives  of  others.^^^  Failure 
to  do  this  makes  the  rich  man  pitifully  and  hopelessly 
poor.^**  The  most  rewarding  hospitality  is  shown  to  those 
who  can  make  no  retum.^^^ 

On  the  basis  of  brotherhood,  Jesus  teaches  democracy 
in  human  relations.^*^  The  only  aristocracy  he  recog- 
nizes is  the  aristocracy  of  service.  ^^"^  It  is  those  who  are 
modest,  and  therefore  teachable,  who  have  the  key  to  a 
Kingdom.^*®  The  honor  that  comes 'to  men  is  in  inverse 
ratio  to  their  pride. ^^^  Jesus  raises  woman  to  a  new  plane 
of  equality  and  courtesy.^ ^^  The  Kingdom  of  God  is  to 
be  world-wide.^^^  Race  hatred  finds  no  place  with  a  Jew 
who  makes  a  Samaritan  the  hero  of  one  of  his  stories. -^^^ 
Caste  is  equally  foreign  to  his  teaching  and  practice. ^^^ 
The  most  menial  task  may  be  made  a  sacrament.  ^^^  Hu- 
man brotherhood  transcends  the  bonds  of  blood.^^^ 
Through  sacrifice  for  humanity,  one  is  initiated  into  a 
freemasonry  of  brotherhood,  with  its  own  privileges  and 
compensations.  "There  is  no  man  who  has  left  house,  or 
brothers,  or  sisters,  or  mother,  or  father,  or  children,  or 
lands,  for  the  sake  of  the  great  cause,  but  will  receive  a 
hundredfold,  even  now  in  the  present  life — houses,  and 
brothers,    and   sisters,   and  mothers,    and   children,   and 

^"Lu.  16:10-12. 

»«Lu.  12:47-48. 

*«Lu.  16:1-9.    Cf.  ministry  of  beauty,  Matt.  26:6-13. 

*«Lu.  12:16-21;   16:19-31. 

»«Lu.  14:12-14;  Matt.  5:46-47. 

*«Matt.  23:8-11. 

"'Mk.  10:42-45;  Lu.  7:28. 

*«Matt.  5:3;    18:1-4. 

^••Matt.  23:12;  Mk.  9:35;  10:31;  Lu.  14:7-11. 

"»Jn.  4:27;    19:26-27;   Lu.   10:38-42. 

"*Lu.  13:29;  Matt.  28:19;  Jn.  12:32. 

«»Lu.  10:33.     Cf.  Jn.  4:9;  Matt.  8:5-13. 

-Matt.  9:10-11;   Lu.  19:5-7;   14:12-14. 

"•Jn.  13:1-15. 

"•Mk.  3:31-35.     Cf.  Matt.  10:37. 


PKELIMINARY:  JESUS'  VIEWi  OF  UNIVEESE     15 

lands."  ^^®  "Happy  are  the  gentle-men,  for  they  will  in- 
herit the  earth."  ^^^  That  is,  God's  world  eventually  will 
come  into  possession,  not  of  the  bully  but  of  the  courteous 
man,  who,  with  all  his  ability  to  see  opportunities  and  his 
shrewdness  in  grasping  them,^^^  is  considerate  of  others' 
rights  and  interested  in  others'  welfare.  The  unsocial 
man  is  excluded  from  God's  family  as  abnormal ;  in  fact 
he  excludes  himself. -^^^  The  same  doom  is  pronounced 
on  the  unsocial  nation.  ^^®  Service  is  the  inexorable  test, 
which  spells  destruction  to  those  who  fail  to  meet  it.^*^ 
Here  is  a  theory  of  human  relations  that  is  simple,  com- 
prehensive, self -consistent,  and  eminently  practical.  Has 
Jesus  given  a  correct  solution  of  the  riddle  of  the  Uni- 
verse? Does  his  interpretation  square  with  the  world  as 
we  know?  Will  the  theory  work?  That  is  the  question 
before  us.  I  propose  to  use  Christianity  as  a  working 
hypothesis. 

^'"Mk.  10:28-30.    Cf.  Rom.  16:13,  "his  mother  and  mine." 

"'Matt.  5:5. 

"•Matt!  25:14-30;  Lu.  19:12-26. 

"•Matt.  22:11-13;  18:17;  25:30,  46. 

"*'Matt.  21:33-43;  Lu.  13:29-30. 

^Lu.  20:9-18;  Matt.  7:24-27. 


PART  I 
THE  EXTEENAL  UNIVERSE 


PAET  I. 

THE  EXTEENAL  UOTVERSE. 

II. 

THE  PASSING  OF  PHYSICAL  MATEEIAIilSM. 

Jesus'  spiritualistic  philosophy  meets  its  first  test  as  it 
faces  the  problem  of  the  external  world.  Modern  Astrono- 
my has  immensely  expanded  the  physical  Universe  in 
which  man's  life  is  spent.  Our  great  solar  system,  with 
its  planets  in  orderly  rotation  and  revolution,  is  but  the 
vestibule.  A  billion  other  suns  are  distributed  through  a 
space  so  vast  that  we  reckon  distance  not  by  miles  but  by 
light  years.  The  light  from  the  more  distant  stars  re- 
quires more  than  200,000  years  to  reach  us.  Telescope 
and  spectroscope  reveal  the  cyclic  changes  through  which 
these  stars  are  passing,  and  have  been  passing  for  we  know 
not  how  many  million  years. 

Of  this  newly  discovered  world  of  Astronomy,  I  shall 
speak  more  at  length  in  a  later  chapter.  Suffice  it  to  note 
here  that  the  physical  Universe  is  one  inter-related  whole. 
Suns  and  satellites,  clusters  and  spirals,  nebulae  and  star 
dust,  are  embraced  in  a  single  system.  Everywhere  we 
find  the  same  forces  of  gravity  and  radiation  pressure. 
The  rays  of  heat  shot  out  from  one  unit,  in  time  reach 
and  act  upon  the  other  units.  The  same  chemical  elements 
found  on  our  earth  have  been  detected  in  the  stars.  Solids 
and  gases  everywhere  follow  the  same  laws  of  behavior. 

What  is  the  nature  of  this  physical  Universe,  this  vast 
Mechanism  with  which  man  is  so  closely  connected  ?  Jesus 

19 


20  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

claimed  that  it  is  spiritual,  dynamic,  the  vesture  and  mani- 
festation of  the  living  and  ever  present  God.  Opposed 
to  this  is  the  philosophy  of  Materialism,  which  grew  up 
out  of  the  advance  in  physical  Science.  Matter  itself  is 
the  ultimate  reality.  The  Universe  is  merely  an  infinite 
congeries  of  atoms,  unchanging  in  quantity,  constantly 
entering  on  new  arrangements  within  a  semi-material 
Space  or  ^ther,  under  stress  of  an  Energy  which  is  re- 
distributed but  never  altered. 

As  thus  stated,  the  two  theories  are  mutually  contradic- 
tory. But  it  is  possible  to  bring  them  onto  a  common 
plane.  A  pure  atomism  is  not  held  today  by  any  leading 
scientific  thinker.  The  uniformity  of  ^Nature,  the  causal 
nexus  between  all  phenomena,  the  laws  of  conservation — 
have  compelled  us  to  regard  the  world  as  a  unity.  Jesus 
likewise  thinks  of  the  world  as  a  whole.  Throughout  it 
reveals  the  activity  and  expresses  the  character  of  God. 
Thus  Christianity  and  Science  speak  of  the  same 
"Universe,"  although  in  different  terms.  The  question 
at  issue  is  this:  is  Matter  material,  or  is  it  essentially 
active,  or  dynamic  ? 

Except  for  the  strain  on  the  imagination,  the  philosophi- 
cal problem  before  us  is  not  affected  by  the  great  extension 
in  space  and  time.  The  study  which  will  give  us  the 
nature  of  Matter  must  be  intensive.  To  understand  the 
ultimate  structure  of  a  grain  of  sand  or  a  cubic  inch  of 
air,  the  forces  at  work  and  their  interaction,  is  to  know 
the  physical  Universe  in  its  totality. 

The  most  important  event  in  recent  Thought  is  the 
passing  of  Materialism,  as  a  philosophy  based  on  scien- 
tific induction.  The  age-long  problem  of  Matter  has  been 
attacked,  and  in  a  measure  solved.  Modem  Physics  has 
taken  a  position  which  is  entirely  consistent  with  Jesus' 
theory  of  a  spiritual  Universe.^ 

*A  more  detailed  study  of  the  new  Physics  will  be  found  in  my 
Unfolding  Universe,  1915,  chaps.  3  to  5.  The  best  introduction  for 
the  general  reader  is  R.  A.  Millikan,  The  Electron,  1917,  with  full 


PASSING  OF  PHYSICAL  MATERIALISM        21 

Materialism  was  done  to  death,  not  by  the  cloistered 
student,  spinning  a  web  of  idealism  from  his  own  brain; 
not  by  the  militant  theologian,  turning  his  blind  eye  to 
the  facts  of  Science,  that  he  might  fight  on  ignorant  and 
undaunted.  The  materialistic  doctrine,  so  often  put  forth 
in  the  name  of  Science,  was  destroyed  through  the  further 
study  of  the  scientists  themselves. 

Sir  William  Crookes  began  it,  in  1870.  He  had  been 
studying  the  new  cathode  rays,  formed  by  passing  elec- 
tricity through  a  vacuum  tube.  He  made  the  discovery 
that  the  rays  consist  of  minute  particles,  carrying  a  nega- 
tive electric  charge.  Twenty  years  later  these  particles,  or 
electrons,  were  studied  more  closely  by  Professor  J.  J. 
Thomson  of  Cambridge,  and  others.  A  series  of  experi- 
ments, as  brilliant  as  any  in  the  history  of  Science,  yielded 
the  discoveries  which  are  revolutionizing  both  Physics  and 
Philosophy.  We  learned  that  electrons  are  the  units  of 
the  electric  current.  All  flow  of  electricity,  from  the  flash 
of  lightning  to  the  power  generated  by  turbines  and  passed 
through  the  filament  of  our  electric  lamp,  is  a  stream  of 
these  tiny  particles.  We  learned  further  that  the  solid 
atom,  hitherto  the  unit  of  Matter,  is  composed  of  elec- 
trons, and  of  particles  bearing  an  equivalent  positive 
charge.  The  units  of  Electricity  are  the  units  of  matter : 
the  basis  of  the  air  we  breathe,  of  the  floor  we  walk  on,  of 
our  flesh  and  bone  and  blood  and  brain. 

Just  before  the  close  of  the  century  came  the  discovery 
of  radium,  and  of  other  radioactive  substances.     Here  a 

references.  See  also  J.  S.  Ames,  Constitution  of  Matter,  1913; 
Comstock  and  Troland,  Nature  of  Matter  and  Electricity,  1919; 
Norman  R.  Campbell,  Modern  Electrical  Theory,  2nd  ed.,  1913; 
H.  A.  Lorentz,  Theory  of  Electrons,  1909;  O.  W.  Richardson, 
Electron  Theory  of  Matter,  1914.  For  the  earlier  Relativity  theory, 
R.  C.  Tolman,  Theory  of  the  Relativ.  of  Motion,  1917.  For  the 
generalized  theory,  the  excellent  popular  summary  by  Albert  Ein- 
stein himself,  Eng.  trans,  by  R.  W.  Lawson,  1920;  J.  Malcolm 
Bird,  etc.,  Einstein's  Theories  of  Relativ.  and  Gravitation,  Scientific 
American,  1921;  and  A.  S.  Eddington,  Relativ.  Theory  of  Oravitor 
tion,  London  Physical  Society,  1918.  (I  prefer  this  to  his  Space, 
Time  and  Gravitation,  1920.) 


22  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

complex  atom  is  in  process  of  breaking  down.  As  it  does 
so,  it  shoots  forth  electrons  at  enormous  velocities.  Kauf- 
mann  and  Biicherer  gave  Materialism  its  mortal  wound 
when  they  proved  that  the  swiftly  moving  electron  has  a 
larger  mass  than  the  electron  which  is  moving  with  com- 
parative slowness,  as  in  the  cathode  ray.  That  is,  part  of 
its  mass  is  not  material  at  all.  The  inertia  of  the  electron, 
the  apparent  solidity  of  this  minute  physical  body  which 
lies  at  the  basis  of  all  physical  bodies,  is  largely  due  to  its 
motion,  or  to  the  opposing  forces  set  up  by  its  motion. 

Later  researches  have  indicated  that  all  the  mass  of  the 
electron  is  electrical  in  origin.  Physicists  find  that  the 
connection  between  mass  and  velocity  is  what  would  be 
expected,  if  the  entire  mass  is  due  to  the  electric  charge. 
To  lose  its  energy  would  be  to  lose  its  mass.  The  electron 
is  not  a  solid  particle,  as  was  at  first  supposed,  but  a  point 
or  region  where  a  definite  electric  charge  is  concentrated. 
The  same  is  probably  true  of  the  corresponding  unit  of 
positive  electricity,  very  much  larger  in  size,  but  by  no 
means  as  well  known..  To  consider  the  positive  units  as 
other  than  electrical,  is  to  introduce  what  Lorentz  calls 
an  unnecessary  dualism.  The  working  hypothesis  of 
present-day  Physics  is  that  "matter  is  of  an  electrical 
nature,  and  the  forces  of  cohesion  between  the  particles, 
which  give  a  solid  its  rigidity,  are  electrical  forces."  ^ 
As  another  writer  puts  it,  all  the  properties  of  matter  may 
be  explained  as  the  "statistical  result  of  the  behavior  of 
the  individual  electrons.''  ^  Much  work  remains  to  be 
done  in  tracing  these  relations  and  behavior.  The  absorb- 
ing problem  of  theoretical  Physics  is  that  of  the  arrange- 
ment of  electrons  within  the  atom,  and  its  connection  with 
the  radiation  of  light.  But  the  entire  viewpoint  has 
changed.  The  physical  world  is  not  composed,  as  we  used 
to  think,  of  solid  atoms,  little  pellets  of  stuff,  moving  about 
in  groups  in  an  elastic  medium  known  as  the  -^ther.    It 

*A.  S.  Eddington,  Nature,  101,  p.  15,  1918. 

■R.  C.  Tolman,  Relativity  of  Motion,  1917,  15. 


PASSING  OF  PHYSICAL  MATERIALISM       23 

is  now  thought  of  as  made  up  of  centers  of  electric  force, 
positive  and  negative,  acting  upon  each  other,  and  keeping 
one  another  in  incessant  motion. 

To  one  accustomed  to  thinking  in  terms  of  an  atomic 
theory,  the  electrical  view  of  Matter  comes  as  a  relief  and 
not  as  a  burden.  The  dead  stuff  of  a  purely  physical 
universe,  however  Idealism  might  seek  to  ignore  it,  was 
something  of  which  neither  Idealism  nor  Materialism 
could  give  a  satisfactory  explanation.  It  remained  an 
irreducible  surd  in  any  equation  of  reality.  The  New 
Physics  gives  us  a  dynamic  Universe.  Electron  units  are 
active  and  not  merely  passive.  If  any  one  doubts  whether 
they  are  active,  let  him  touch  a  wire  along  which  a  stream 
of  them  is  passing.  And  a  Universe  made  up  of  such 
"live"  units  is,  to  some  degree  at  least,  self-sufficient  and 
self-explanatory. 

Then  came  the  doctrine  of  Kelativity  to  give  Material- 
ism the  stroke  of  mercy.  We  must  give  up  even  the  idea 
of  a  fixed  medium  for  physical  units.  There  is  good 
reason  for  believing  that  the  earth  is  moving  around  the 
sun  at  a  rate  of  about  20  miles  a  second.  Kepeated  at- 
tempts have  been  made  to  detect  this  motion,  with  refer- 
ence to  a  surrounding  ^ther,  but  absolutely  without  re- 
sult. Einstein  therefore  rejected  the  idea  of  any  fixed 
frame  of  reference.  The  only  motion  which  can  be  de- 
tected is  motion  of  one  body  relative  to  another.  No  such 
thing  as  absolute  motion  is  known  to  us.  If  an  observer 
and  the  body  whose  velocity  he  is  trying  to  measure  are 
moving  uniformly,  each  has  its  own  space  and  time. 
There  is  no  way  of  directly  comparing  one  system  of  space 
and  time  with  another.  All  we  can  do  is  to  make  a  mathe- 
matical transformation  of  two  sets  of  space-time  coordi- 
nates. If  there  are  some  of  my  readers  who  have  not  even 
a  bowing  acquaintance  with  coordinates,  I  would  state 
that  they  are  ^e  imaginary  linesmen  stationed  along  the 
field  to  mark  the  position  of  the  ball  on  successive  downs. 
Where  we  have  two  balls,  we  must  have  two  sets  of  lines- 


24  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

men.  By  the  use  of  this  system  it  is  possible  for  the 
mathematical  sportsman  to  follow  the  games  which  are 
being  played  all  over  the  country.  The  laws  of  E'ature, 
which  are  given  us  by  our  study  of  Mechanics  and  Dy- 
namics, may  be  stated  independently  of  the  observer's 
particular  scheme  of  space  and  time. 

Kecently  Einstein  has  generalized  his  principle  to  cover 
all  types  of  motion.  The  deflection  caused  by  a  field  of 
force,  for  example  gravitation,  means  the  introduction  of 
a  new  space  and  time  for  the  deflected  body.  The  deflec- 
tion is  represented  by  another  series  of  space-time  coordi- 
nates, similar  to  that  introduced  for  uniform  motion.  We 
follow  the  game,  as  before,  through  the  reports  of  imagi- 
nary linesmen,  and  it  appears  to  be  played  in  the  same 
way.  A  man  falling  from  a  roof  would,  during  his  de- 
scent, be  constructing  a  new  series  of  space-times,  and 
might  not  know  he  had  been  falling,  except  for  the  forces 
of  cohesion  in  the  material  which  stopped  his  motion. 
Einstein's  principle  was  suggested  by  a  case  of  this  sort 
which  came  under  .his  observation. 

The  new  theory  was  able  to  explain  the  puzzling  dis- 
crepancy in  the  advance  of  Mercury's  orbit.  A  second 
crucial  test  was  the  prediction  that  the  light  from  the 
stars,  when  passing  near  the  sun,  would  receive  a  certain 
amount  of  deflection  through  the  sun's  gravitational  attrac- 
tion. This  was  brilliantly  confirmed  by  the  eclipse  expedi- 
tions of  1919. 

Momentous  consequences  follow  from  this  doctrine  of 
Eelativity.  That  bulwark  of  Thought,  the  Newtonian 
Mechanics,  with  its  assumptions  of  a  fixed  and  unvarying 
space,  time,  mass,  etc.,  is  being  thrown  overboard  piece  by 
piece.  Mass  is  equivalent  to  energy,  and  increases  with 
velocity.  "Space  and  time  in  themselves,"  as  Minkowski 
said,  "vanish  to  shadows,  and  only  a  kind  of  union  of  the 
two  preserves  an  independent  existence."  The  ^ther 
itself,  the  hypothetical  medium  for  the  action  of  forces,  is 
discarded  as  being  merely  a  scientific  fiction,  which  ere- 


PASSING  OF  PHYSICAL  MATERIALISM        25 

ates  more  difficulties  than  it  explains.  Or  else  we  rele- 
gate it  to  be  the  mythical  abode  of  Lodge's  disembodied 
spirits.  We  are  no  longer  troubled  about  action  across 
empty  space,  because  we  have  ceased  to  talk  about  a  space 
"in  which"  things  move. 

As  a  picture  of  reality,  the  Geometry  of  Euclid  must 
go  the  way  of  the  Newtonian  Mechanics.  Even  while  you 
are  representing  your  objects  as  cubes  and  polyhedrons 
and  spheres,  the  electrons  which  compose  the  world  have 
taken  a  thousand  other  arrangements.  There  is  no  me- 
dium to  retain  the  form  of  any  of  them.  We  are  obliged 
to  construct  space  by  means  of  moving  points  and  lines, 
instead  of  cutting  up  a  space  already  made.  As  Sommer- 
ville  puts  it,  space  and  matter  are  inextricably  entangled. 
It  is  necessary  to  "build  up  a  monistic  theory  of  the  physi- 
cal world  in  terms  of  a  single  set  of  entities,  material 
points,  conceived  as  altering  their  relations  with  time."  * 

Trained  as  we  have  been  in  the  old  way  of  thinking,  it 
is  not  easy  to  adjust  our  thought  to  a  physical  universe, 
whose  component  parts  are  constantly  changing  their  rela- 
tions, and  with  no  material  substratum  whatever.  Our 
minds  grow  dizzy.  We  long  for  the  old  world  of  reality, 
which  appeared  to  stand  still  whenever  we  wanted  to  ob- 
serve it.  But  an  adjustment  to  the  "moving  continuity" 
of  the  new  conception  is  by  no  means  impossible.  Our 
thought  soon  grows  accustomed  to  the  unceasing  move- 
ment. We  come  to  regard  reality  as  a  flow,  however  it 
may  be  necessary  for  the  intellect,  as  Bergson  says,  to 
arrest  this  flow,  and  represent  it  as  a  series  of  fixed  states, 
like  the  separate  pictures  of  a  cinematograph  film. 

When  the  modern  Kip  van  Winkle,  after  a  long  sleep, 
returns  to  the  study  of  Physics,  he  finds  himself  in  a  new 
world.  That  world  is  no  longer  "material."  Pellets  of 
stuff,  aether  medium,  fluid  space,  alike  have  vanished. 
The  fundamental  fact  is  these  electric  charges,  with  their 

*D.  M.  Y.  Sommerville,  El&ment»  of  Non-Euolidean  Geom.,  1914, 
201. 


26  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

properties,  their  motions,  their  interactions,  their  rela- 
tions and  sequences.  A  mechanical  arrangement  of  pas- 
sive units  has  given  place  to  a  dynamic  Universe.  Matter 
has  not  disappeared;  it  cannot  be  ignored.  But  it  is 
being  stated  in  terms  of  Force  or  Energy.^ 

This  revolution  of  thought  tends  to  close  the  gap  be- 
tween Physics  and  Biology.  The  organic  loses  its  excep- 
tional character.  The  appearance  of  life  on  this  planet 
ceases  to  demand  a  special  creative  fiat.  More  and  more 
the  phenomena  of  Life  are  being  stated  in  terms  of  chem- 
istry. We  are  able  to  modify  organic  processes  by  chang- 
ing the  surrounding  medium.  Biologists  confidently  ex- 
pect to  produce  in  the  laboratory  some  of  the  syntheses  of 
physical  particles  on  which  the  life  of  the  cell  depends. 
What  does  all  this  mean  ?  That  Materialism  has  won  the 
day?  Some  such  fear  has  haunted  many  a  Christian 
man  in  our  generation.  But  physical  particles  themselves 
are  no  longer  "material."  They  are  centers  of  electrical 
concentration,  parts  of  that  unity  of  interacting  centers 
which  we  know  as  the  Universe.  The  mechanist,  work- 
ing forward  from  the  new  arrangement  of  atoms  which 
is  characteristic  of  the  organism,  and  the  vitalist,  working 
backward  from  the  behavior  of  living  creatures,  find  a 
possible  meeting  ground  in  this  conception  of  a  world  of 
forces  and  force-centers,  which  forms  the  common  basis  of 
Matter  and  Life.  It  is  not  difficult  to  conceive  of  an  elec- 
trical atom  and  a  living  cell  as  belonging  to  the  same 
family.  A  new  grouping  of  forces  may  be  expected  to 
show  new  properties,  as,  to  quote  an  analogy  from  T.  H. 
Morgan,  the  properties  of  sugar  differ  entirely  from  the 
sum  of  the  properties  of  carbon,  hydrogen  and  oxygen. 

■What  Force  is  in  itself,  as  represented  by  the  deflections  asso- 
ciated with  an  electric  charge,  is  still  a  matter  of  debate  in  the 
scientific  world.  To  Eddington,  for  example,  both  matter  and  energy 
are  the  expression  of  world  curvature.  They  are  part  of  our  per- 
ception that  such  curvature  exists.  {Space,  Time  and  Gravitation, 
1920,  92.)  Rather  than  enter  on  this  doubtful  region  of  meta- 
physics, I  prefer  to  leave  "force"  and  "dynamic  universe"  as  unde- 
fined terms  given  us  by  our  observation  of  the  world. 


PASSING  OF  PHYSICAL  MATEEIALISM       27 

The  same  is  true  of  that  higher,  more  specialized  form 
of  life  which  we  call  Mind.  The  human  mind  uses  an 
elaborate  machinery  of  brain  and  nerve  cells,  which  itself 
has  helped  to  organize,  and  on  which  its  activities  depend 
to  a  large  degree.  Mental  states  are  closely  correlated 
with  cerebral  states.  Damage  to  the  brain  affects  the 
mind.  The  destruction  of  certain  centers  in  the  left  brain 
of  a  right-handed  person,  means  the  loss  of  word-hearing, 
or  of  word-seeing,  or  of  word-speaking.  But  this  does  not 
mean  that  the  mind  is  material,  or  dependent  on  what  is 
material.  There  is  no  longer  any  such  thing  as  the  ma- 
terial, in  the  old  sense.  The  phenomena  all  come  within 
the  field  of  energetics.  The  Universe  appears  to  us  not 
only  in  the  comparatively  simple  groupings  of  electrons 
which  we  find  in  inorganic  chemistry,  but  in  the  elaborate 
molecules  which  go  to  make  up  living  cells.  These  cells 
in  turn,  when  grouped  as  organisms,  and  specialized  in 
brain  and  nerve  cells,  reveal  properties  and  powers  in  the 
Universe,  of  which  the  student  of  the  inorganic  world 
knows  nothing.  Of  necessity  the  physiologist  will  empha- 
size the  processes  of  the  brain.  The  psychologist  concen- 
trates his  attention  on  its  properties.  But  the  electron 
and  the  albumin  molecule,  the  living  cell  and  the  human 
mind,  the  neurones  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres  and  the 
scientist  who  directs  or  inhibits  them,  all  fijid  their  place 
in  a  dynamic  Universe. 

Still  another  gulf  has  been  bridged,  between  Science 
and  Keligion.  A  physical  Universe  of  this  character, 
linked  as  it  is  with  organisms  and  brain  cells,  fits  into  the 
Christian  interpretation  of  the  world.  The  idea  of  God 
will  need  to  be  reformulated.  But  recent  Physics  and 
Jesus'  conception  of  God's  activity  in  I^Tature  constitute  a 
mutual  approach.  They  meet  in  a  new  and  comprehensive 
unity,  which  calls  for  another  chapter. 


IIL 

GOD  RESTATED. 

The  passing  of  physical  materialism  hreaks  the  spell  of 
Divine  aloofness  which  Augustine  and  Aquinas  laid  upon 
Christian  thought.  The  Middle  Ages  passed  on  to  modem 
Europe  a  dualism  quite  similar  to  that  of  the  Pharisees 
— God  and  His  creation,  Heaven  and  Earth,  Spirit  and 
Matter.  Of  the  two  parts  of  this  inheritance,  it  was  the 
material  world  which  Europe  was  beginning  to  study  by 
the  new  inductive  method.  One  discovery  followed  an- 
other. Growing  knowledge  brought  an  increasing  mastery 
of  the  world.  Surplus  human  energies  were  engrossed  by 
scientific  research,  by  manufacturing  and  trade.  Religion 
suffered  in  consequence.  With  the  decay  of  religious  faith 
during  the  18th  and  early  19th  centuries,  there  came  into 
vogue  the  materialistic  philosophy  of  the  Universe  to 
which  I  referred  in  the  last  chapter.  The  spiritual  realm 
appeared  so  remote  that  men  readily  listened  to  the  sug- 
gestion that  it  was  unreal.  The  effect  was  far  reaching. 
Two  of  the  most  powerful  influences  of  modern  times  took 
shape  in  this  era.  Science  developed  a  materialistic  tra- 
dition, which  was  intensified  by  its  conflict  with  current 
Theology.  Socialism  was  given  its  classic  expression  by 
leaders  who  were  under  the  spell  of  the  same  anti-clerical 
and  materialistic  movement.^ 

Jesus'  idea  of  God's  direct  and  universal  activity  had 
been  practically  forgotten.     As  long  as  men  conceived  of 

*See  Andrew  D.  White,  Hist,  of  the  Warfare  of  Science  with 
Theology,  1903;  W.  Rauschenbusch,  Christianizing  the  Social  Order, 
1912,  110.  However  idealistic  the  modern  Socialist  may  be,  he  is 
likely  to  be  a  materialist  in  the  type  of  his  thought. 

28 


GOD  RESTATED  29 

the  world  as  material,  it  was  necessary  to  distinguish 
sharply  between  God  and  the  world.  The  two  could  not 
be  considered  akin.  The  relation  in  which  they  stood  was 
that  of  Creator  and  creation.  And  here  Christian  think- 
ing faced  a  dilemma.  Either  God  made  Matter  out  of 
nothing,  a  feat  which  it  was  almost  impossible  for  the 
human  mind  to  grasp.  Or  Matter  had  always  existed,  a 
position  that  appeared  to  limit  God.  The  Hebrew  tradi- 
tion, as  embodied  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis,  seems 
to  imply  some  permanent  raw  material  which  God  worked 
np  in  the  course  of  creation.  A  third  alternative  was  to 
Inake  Matter  an  idea  or  an  illusion,  which  the  practical 
Western  mind  could  not  accept. 

Scientific  philosophy,  as  we  have  seen,  concentrated  its 
attention  on  Matter,  ignoring  or  denying  a  Creator.  Re- 
ligion, on  what  were  for  the  most  part  valid  grounds,  con- 
tinued to  develop  its  doctrine  of  God.  The  result  was 
a  Tower  of  Babel.  These  two  branches  of  human  thought 
came  to  speak  different  languages.  J^either  could  under- 
stand what  the  other  was  trying  to  describe.  The  Chris- 
tian charged  the  scientific  man  with  denying  God.  The 
latter  regarded  the  Christian  as  an  obscurantist,  on  whom 
the  accumulated  knowledge  of  Science  made  no  impression. 

The  effect  of  this  dualism  on  Religion  was  equally 
unfortunate.  The  material  world,  with  which  men  have 
so  much  to  do,  was  constantly  encroaching  on  the  Divine. 
Every  youthful  religion  has  thought  of  its  god  as  present 
and  active  in  the  world.  As  the  religion  grows  older,  the 
divinity  becomes  less  immanent  and  more  transcendent. 
The  god  who  once  took  a  hand  in  all  the  affairs  of  ^Nature 
and  of  the  community  life,  now  intervenes  only  in  special 
crises.  Once  God's  activity  in  the  world  was  direct  and 
personal;  now  he  works  only  through  second  causes  or 
through  angels.  Once  he  lived  in  the  tree  and  the  spring ; 
he  walked  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day.  'Now  he 
dwells  in  a  distant  heaven,  august,  inaccessible.  Once  he 
was  the  intimate  of  man,  his  friend  and  ally,  his  guest  at 


30  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

the  sacrificial  feast.  Now  lie  sits  on  his  throne,  sur- 
rounded by  courtiers  and  menials,  receiving  as  of  right 
the  flattery  and  adoration  of  his  earthly  subjects. 

To  the  average  worshipper,  at  the  beginning  of  the  20th 
century,  the  world  was  real  but  God  was  unreal.  God's 
world  had  pushed  God  so  far  away  that  He  appeared  to 
have  little  to  do  with  our  everyday  life,  ^o  figure  is 
more  pathetic  than  that  of  the  sincere  Christian  of  the 
dualist  school,  opening  his  daily  newspaper  with  the  lurk- 
ing fear  that  God  has  been  disproved. 

The  situation  was  indeed  alarming.  Students  of  So- 
ciety are  beginning  to  recognize  the  importance  of  Re- 
ligion as  a  factor  in  human  development.  I  can  only 
indicate,  in  the  briefest  way,  its  biological  significance. 
In  the- earliest  cultural  stages  known  to  us,  we  find  men 
seeking  to  know  and  ada|>t  themselves  to  their  Environ- 
ment. And  this  adjustment  is  largely  mental.  It  takes 
place  in  the  region  of  ideas,  emotions,  values,  attitudes. 
The  savage  tries  to  escape  from  the  evil  powers  which  he 
conceives  to  be  back  of  the  objects  and  activities  of  the 
world  around  him,  and  to  bind  to  himself  the  powers  he 
thinks  of  as  beneficent.  Crude  as  the  process  seems  to 
us,  it  was  biologically  sound  and  of  very  great  practical 
utility.  We  owe  to  it  the  beginnings  of  agriculture,  ani- 
mal husbandry  and  tEe  arts.  Human  life  took  on  dignity 
and  meaning.  Adolescence  and  reproduction  assumed  a 
mystical  importance.  Religious  sanctions  were  the  foun- 
dation of  morality,  and  made  possible  the  solidarity  of 
the  clan  or  tribe.  However  much  the  ideas  and  forms  of 
Religion  have  changed  in  the  course  of  centuries,  re- 
ligious faith  retains  its  essential  character.  Men  still  seek 
to  adjust  themselves  to  the  Universe,  by  value-judgments 
and  the  establishing  of  personal  contacts.  We  have  noted 
the  tendency  in  the  modem  era  to  separate  science  and 
the  arts  from  their  original  dependence  on  religion.  The 
verdict  of  History  is  that  this  separation  cannot  safely 
be  carried  beyond  a  certain  point.     As  we  face  the  ac- 


GOD  EESTATED  31 

tivities  of  the  external  world,  and  whatever  lies  behind 
them,  the  attitude  of  confidence  and  cooperation  has  a 
survival  value  for  the  individual  or  for  the  social  group. 
Without  it,  human  associations  are  in  the  long  run  un- 
workable. Religious  decadence  and  general  scepticism 
are  a  mark  of  social  decay.  They  might  be  termed  a 
biological  retrogression.  Man  is  less  fitted  to  work  with 
his  Environment. 

The  new  position  taken  by  physical  Science  opens  the 
way  for  a  realinement  of  Christian  doctrine.  If  Matter 
is  dynamic  rather  than  material,  it  is  no  longer  necessary 
to  say  that  God  is  outside  of  the  world  which  He  has 
made.  Such  a  distinction  has  lost  its  value.  The  world 
may  better  be  described  as  the  unfolding  of  God's  activity. 
Creation  must  be  stated  in  terms  of  evolution  rather  than 
of  manufacture.  God,  instead  of  being  a  supreme  and 
perhaps  unknowable  epiphenomenon,  a  fifth  wheel  to  the 
world's  onrushing  car,  becomes  known  to  us  in  and  through 
our  Environment.  The  way  is  open  for  us  to  recover 
Jesus'  sense  of  a  dynamic,  a  spiritual  world.  There  is  no 
other.  ISTot  Matter  but  Energy  is  at  the  basis  of  the 
Universa  It  is  the  materialist's  world  of  inert  stuff,  of 
dead  atoms,  of  fluid  space,  which  proves  to  be  unreal. 
When  the  physicist  studies  the  Universe,  he  is  studying 
God,  in  certain  modes  of  His  action.  God  Himself,  and 
not  one  of  His  creatures  or  emanations.  The  theologian 
is  talking  about  the  same  great  fact.  He  is  trying  to  de- 
scribe a  spiritual  Universe.  By  the  use  of  other  lines  of 
evidence,  other  contacts  and  judgments  of  value,  the 
Christian  interprets  God  as  the  Divine  Parent,  whose 
spiritual  order  is  revealed  to  our  experience  through  Jesus 
Christ.  Science  tells  us  the  way  God  does  His  work. 
Christianity  explains  the  character  of  the  Universe  and 
enables  us  to  make  our  adjustment  more  intelligent  and 
fruitful. 

Science  and  Religion  are  thus  two  sides  of  the  same 
process  of  mental  adaptation.    Each  is  supreme  in  its  own 


33  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

field.  The  function  of  Science  is  to  describe;  the  func- 
tion of  Eeligion  is  to  interpret.  The  scientist  must  be 
absolutely  free  to  study  the  facts  of  the  Universe  and 
report  his  findings.  'No  one  else  is  competent  to  do  so. 
In  its  own  sphere,  Religion  must  be  given  the  same  right 
of  way.  For  the  scientific  worker  to  say  that  there  is  no 
God  back  of  the  phenomena  of  the  Universe,  would  be  as 
presumptuous  as  for  the  theologian  to  deny  the  atomic 
theory  or  the  fact  of  organic  evolution.  Science  may  de- 
scribe the  facts  of  the  world,  but  it  cannot  interpret  the 
world  as  a  whole.  I  speak  positively  on  this  matter,  be- 
cause for  many  years  I  was  engaged  in  what  I  believe  was 
an  honest  and  competent  attempt  to  interpret  the  world 
on  the  basis  of  scientific  induction.  I  found  that  after  a 
certain  stage  in  the  enquiry  I  reached  the  end  of  my 
rope.  Induction  failed  because  the  data  were  incomplete. 
By  no  conceivable  perfecting  of  scientific  method  can  the 
situation  be  remedied.  In  order  to  make  further  advance 
I  was  obliged  to  turn  to  religion  in  general,  and  in  particu- 
lar to  the  climax  of  religious  development  which  we  reach 
in  the  experience  of  Jesus.  He  interprets  the  Universe 
as  expressing  the  activity  of  a  moral  and  altruistic  God. 
Our  concern  is  with  the  value  of  this  idea,  rather  than 
with  any  particular  theories  as  to  its  source.  Philosophi- 
cally it  must  be  counted  as  a  hypothesis,  but  no  other  hypo- 
thesis is  at  hand.  Either  Jesus  has  given  a  correct  inter- 
pretation of  the  Universe,  a  problem  to  which  the  present 
book  is  devoted.  Or  no  interpretation  is  possible;  the 
Universe  is  a  Chaos,  without  intelligible  meaning.  To 
return  to  my  original  point,  the  distinction  between  the 
scientific  and  the  religious  attitude  and  method  is  merely 
for  practical  convenience.  ITormally  the  same  mind  will 
hold  both  attitudes  and  follow  both  methods.  It  is  only 
by  combining  the  two  that  we  gain  a  complete  picture  of 
the  Universe. 

The  mystic  sees  God,  where  other  people  see  only  soil 
and  flesh  and  implements  and  wood  and  steel.    The  differ- 


GOD  RESTATED  33 

ence  is  partly  in  temperament,  partly  in  the  power  of 
imagination,  partly  in  training  and  intellectual  environ- 
ment. But  God  is  there,  in  all  tiie  physical  world,  what- 
ever names  we  give  to  it.  The  most  matter  of  fact  person 
is  as  truly  in  contact  with  Him  as  is  the  religious  mystic 
or  the  dreaming  poet,  of  whom  our  next  chapter  will  have 
much  to  tell.  Once  let  the  practical  man  catch  that  point 
of  view,  the  point  of  view  of  Jesus,  and  a  righteous  and 
loving  God  begins  to  be  for  him  a  supreme  reality,  and  no 
longer  merely  a  name  or  a  tradition. 

The  revolution  of  thought  which  I  have  sketched  may 
mean  the  beginning  of  a  new  Christian  era.  Faith  and 
worship  become  once  more  an  integral  part  of  life.  The 
religion  of  Christ,  with  which  our  modem  civilization 
is  identified,  should  have  in  the  future  a  note  of  reality, 
a  this-worldliness,  a  practical  mysticism,  which  it  has  not 
known  since  Jesus  taught  in  Palestine.  Can  God  seem 
distant  or  unreal  when  the  very  food  we  eat,  the  clothes 
we  wear,  the  body  that  is  clothed  and  fed,  are  essentially 
Divine?  The  physical,  as  Dearmer  says,  becomes  a  sac- 
rament, the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  a  spiritual  Pres- 
ence. Each  day  is  sacred  that  is  lived  with  Him.  Each 
spot  is  holy  where  we  meet  our  God.  All  functioning 
of  body  and  brain  becomes  an  act  of  communion.  The 
natural  world  takes  on  new  beauty  and  meaning.  Every 
human  activity  finds  a  place  in  the  spiritual  order  which 
God  and  men  are  making  a  reality  on  earth. 

Yesterday  God  to  the  average  man  was  an  abstraction. 
Christian  theologians,  not  yet  emancipated  from  Greek 
and  German  philosophy,  tended  to  treat  Him  as  an  idea,  an 
Absolute,  a  bundle  of  ideal  qualities  which  it  was  often 
difficult  to  translate  into  the  concrete. 

Today,  if  we  accept  Jesus'  spiritual  interpretation  of 
the  world,  God  is  a  fact,  the  great  fact  of  existence,  the 
one  thing  real  in  the  external  world  from  which  there 
is  no  escape.  In  His  constant  and  ordered  activity  we 
Jive  and  move  and  have  our  being.    Keligion  is  no  longer  a 


34  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

matter  of  choice.  In  the  broad  sense,  every  man  is  re- 
ligious. The  atheist  and  the  Christian,  the  artisan  and  the 
astronomer,  the  physicist  and  the  priest,  alike  are  in  con- 
tact with  that  ever-present,  unavoidable  Universe,  which 
the  Christian,  through  his  deeper  experience,  has  learned 
to  call  the  presence  of  the  Father.  I  do  not  attempt  to 
state  the  exact  relations  between  God  and  the  physical 
Environment.  But  the  two  are  so  close,  in  our  experience, 
that  to  ask  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  would  be  to 
prove  the  existence  of  the  Universe,  which  only  an  occa- 
sional bedouin  philosopher  considers  necessary. 

It  is  evident  that  our  idea  of  communion  between  man 
and  God  must  be  given  a  broader  meaning.  Intercourse 
with  a  Deity  who  lives  up  in  the  sky,  is  one  thing.  Inter- 
course with  a  God  who  fills  all  the  world  that  our  senses 
reveal  to  us,  is  quite  another  thing.  In  the  next  chapter, 
let  us  consider  man's  communion  with  God  in  !N'ature. 


IV. 


Jesus'  sense  of  God's  activity  in  !N"ature  was  buried  for 
many  centuries.  Christian  thought  was  pitched  in  an- 
other key.  Its  joy  was  found  in  anticipations  of  a  future 
heaven,  rather  than  in  appreciation  of  the  present  earth. 
The  world  was  essentially  evil ;  the  Day  of  Judgment  was 
at  hand.  Christians,  writhing  under  persecution,  found 
comfort  in  the  Jewish  imagery  of  the  last  things.  Then 
apocalypse  gave  place  to  asceticism.  The  ideal  Christian 
life,  possible  only  for  the  few,  was  to  withdraw  from  the 
world  and  its  pleasures,  and  mortify  the  flesh  for  the  sake 
of  the  soul.  In  the  break-up  of  civilization  during  the 
following  centuries,  men  had  no  spirit  for  the  enjoyment 
of  JsTature.  Augustine's  dream  is  of  a  city,  and  that  not 
of  this  earth.  The  Greek  love  and  worship  of  beauty  dies 
out ;  the  passion  for  country  life,  the  delight  in  landscape 
for  its  own  sake,  which  we  see  in  Horace  and  Vergil.  Al- 
most the  last  echoes  of  nature-love  are  found  in  some 
charming  bits  in  the  Elocutio  Novella,  and  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  Moselle  by  the  Christian  teacher  Ausonius, 
toward  the  end  of  the  fourth  century.  Teutonic  thought 
was  cast  in  a  gloomier  mold.  Land  clearing  meant  a  hard 
and  unceasing  struggle  with  natural  forces.  The  forest, 
which  fills  such  a  large  place  in  mediaeval  folk-lore,  was 
peopled  not  by  nymphs  but  by  pixies  and  goblins.  Wild 
nature  was  not  loving  but  terrible. 

The  recovery  of  E'ature  was  not  due  to  the  churchmen, 
whose  thoughts  were  elsewhere,  but  to  the  poets.  Wan- 
dering students  trill  very  pagan  songs.    At  the  end  of  the 

35 


36  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

12th  century,  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide  sings  in  castle 
courts  of  "the  flowers  pressing  out  of  the  grass,  early  on  a 
May  morning,  and  smiling  at  the  playful  sun."  A  hun- 
dred years  later,  Dante  has  the  gift  and  the  leisure  of  mind 
to  observe  the  natural  world  and  enjoy  it  and  describe  it. 
Dafydd  in  Wales  paints  his  lyric  pictures  of  the  birds. 
Petrarch  finds  in  his  mountain  retreat  at  Vaucluse,  and  in 
his  study  of  antiquity,  something  of  that  world  of  natural 
beauty  which  men  once  knew  and  were  to  know  again. 
Chaucer  says  farewell  to  his  books  and  his  prayers,  when 
Spring  comes  and  he  hears  the  birds  singing. 

The  Kenaissance  revived  the  feeling  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  writers  toward  the  natural  world,  which  once  more 
became  something  it  was  legitimate  to  study  and  enjoy. 
The  movement  represented  a  new  energy  and  broadening 
sympathies.  But  it  tended,  like  any  revival  of  the  old, 
toward  artificiality.  The  love  of  N'ature  was  an  affair  of 
fountains  and  trim  garden  walks,  of  classical  imagery  and 
courtly  sentiment.  Only  in  England  did  it  become  freshly 
creative.  The  lyrics  of  the  Elizabethans  are  spontaneous, 
overflowing,  sometimes  even  boisterous  in  their  enjoy- 
ment. The  landscape  backgrounds  of  Shakespeare,  the 
more  elaborate  descriptions  of  Milton,  are  equal  to  the 
best  in  classic  literature,  and  with  a  human  feeling  which 
is  their  own.  In  England  too  a  cold  and  symmetrical  man- 
nerism succeeded,  for  nearly  two  centuries.  But  the  love 
of  country  life,  once  gained,  was  never  lost,  as  Palgrave 
has  shown  in  his  quotations  from  minor  poets.  ^ 

In  their  treatment  of  !N"ature,  the  painters  fared  in  some 
ways  better  than  the  poets.  Theirs  was  a  new  art,  and  not 
a  revival.  "No  classic  models  survived  to  hamper  freedom 
of  expression.  Popular  taste  continued  to  demand  con- 
ventional figure  painting,  even  in  the  treatment  of  natural 
scenery.  But  long  before  the  rise  of  Komanticism,  Titian 
and  Diirer  had  begun  to  turn  space  backgrounds  into  true 

*  F.  T.  Palgrave,  Landscape  in  Poetry,  167  //. 


MAFS  COMMUNION  WITH  NATURE  37 

landscape.  Salvator  Rosa  caught  the  appeal  of  the  roman- 
tic and  sublime.  Claude  studied  Nature  so  closely  that  he 
was  able  to  generalize  its  impressions  of  atmosphere  and 
sunlight.  And  generations  of  gifted  Hollanders,  in  their 
rendering  of  ocean,  sky  and  land,  whether  with  bold  nat- 
uralism or  the  poetic  interpretation  of  wide  spaces,  de- 
veloped a  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  natural  beauty 
which  in  a  later  age  would  find  ample  recognition. 

It  is  not  until  Rousseau  that  Europe  really  comes  to  love 
wild  Nature.  Men  break  away  from  the  artificial  and 
conventional.  The  romantic  spirit  invests  every  natural 
object  with  charm  and  human  meaning.  This  feeling  has 
become  so  instinctive  with  us  moderns,  that  it  is  hard  to 
think  our  way  back  to  the  days,  only  a  century  and  a  half 
ago,  when  men  did  not  pass  through  the  Alps  except  from 
necessity,  when  a  geometrical  garden  was  preferred  to  a 
wooded  hillside,  and  to  go  from  city  to  country  was  apt  to 
be  considered  a  form  of  exile  or  penance. 

God's  natural  world  is  a  Temple  with  various  courts. 
To  enter  the  outer  precincts,  one  need  not  name  the  name 
of  God.  No  set  forms  of  worship  are  prescribed,  no  offer- 
ing, no  temple  fee.  An  artist's  eyes  are  good.  But  the 
only  requisites  are  a  mind  at  leisure  and  a  receptive  soul. 
Let  a  man  put  aside  for  a  while  his  work  and  cares,  and 
step  into  the  freshness  and  beauty  out  of  doors.  At  once 
he  finds  himself  on  holy  ground.  The  pure  air  fills  his 
lungs,  tense  nerves  relax,  a  new  peace  steals  upon  his  spirit. 
His  senses  are  alert  to  the  beauty  and  melody  around 
him. 

The  comfortable  warmth  of  the  sun  in  the  early  spring- 
time, and  the  smell  of  moist  earth.  The  brownish  green  of 
the  prairie  grass,  with  a  background  of  red  stems  in  the 
windbreak  of  willows.  The  first  shy  anemones,  and  the 
glory  of  marsh  marigolds  by  the  brookside.  Wild  plums 
and  cherries  with  their  splashes  of  white,  set  off  against 


38  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

that  new  green  world  which  the  gooseberries  had  been  fore- 
telling. A  whiff  of  wild-grape  blossoms.  The  apple  trees 
in  their  bridal  beauty. 

The  aromatic  fragrance  of  the  sweet-fern,  basking  in  the 
summer  sun.  The  mountain  stream  where  trout  are  hid- 
ing, and  one  takes  toll  besides  of  every  mossy  rock  and 
silver  brown  ripple,  of  the  sunlight  through  translucent 
young  birches,  and  the  cool  damp  shadows.  Strawberries 
hanging  over  the  brook  at  the  edge  of  the  meadow,  where 
the  queenly  elm  keeps  solitary  state.  The  lake  at  evening, 
as  you  glide  out  with  your  canoe  and  witness  the  marriage 
of  sky  and  shore. 

The  first  sharp  frost  of  Autumn,  decking  sumac  and 
swamp  maple  in  brave  scarlet  coats.  Poplars  minting  their 
golden  coins.  The  riotous  colors  of  the  sugar-bush  in 
northern  !N'ew  England.  The  Turkish  tapestry  of  the 
Connecticut  hills. 

Bare  branches,  dividing  the  sky  into  traceries  of  forgot- 
ten beauty.  The  sparkle  of  fresh  snow,  and  the  ozone  in 
one's  lungs.  And  Spring  will  begin  a  new  cycle  of 
rhythmic  loveliness.  "How  good  is  man's  life,  the  mere 
living."  If  appreciation  of  God's  world  be  worship,  every 
red-blooded  devotee  is  the  better  for  communion. 

But  nature  worship  is  an  instinct,  universal,  irrepres- 
sible. If  we  may  not  visit  mountains  and  woods  and 
streams,  we  can  hang  on  cur  wall  the  interpretation  which 
some  artist  has  given  of  them,  or  the  camera's  reminders. 
No  home  so  poor  but  it  may  set  up  an  altar  in  the  shape 
of  a  potted  plant,  a  slip  to  which  the  housewife  brings  her 
daily  offering  of  water  and  love,  a  bulb  that  shows  to  won- 
dering young  eyes  the  miracle  of  resurrection.  'No  slum 
but  has  its  flower  vender,  who  finds  eager  purchasers.  To 
my  thinking  a  single  rose,  bought  with  one's  last  coin,  is 
lovelier  far  than  a  plutocratic  sheaf  of  blossoms.  Even 
when  the  flower  fades,  the  leaves  and  angled  stem  live  on 
as  objects  of  exquisite  beauty.  Every  civilized  city  must 
have  its  parks,  for  the  great  multitude  who  cannot  go 


MAN'S  COMMUNION  WITH  NATURE  39 

afield.  We  feel  it  a  sacred  duty  to  God  and  to  humaiiity 
to  reproduce  as  best  we  may  the  trees  and  flowers  of  His 
natural  world,  and  the  green  grass  where  tired  eyes  may 
rest  and  children  play. 

From  this  outer  precinct  of  the  Temple,  some  of  us 
pass  in  to  the  court  of  Imagination.  I  confess  that  I  sel- 
dom enter  this  sacred  area,  except  when  some  poet  or 
painter  leads  ma  It  is  not  that  my  powers  of  imagining 
are  deficient.  It  is  not  that  I  see  the  machinery  of  nat- 
ural processes,  for  of  these  I  know  comparatively  little. 
But  my  senses  are  so  keen,  my  enjoyment  of  form  and 
color  so  satisfying,  I  am  so  engrossed  by  N"ature's  un- 
spoken friendliness,  that  I  am  not  apt  at  drawing  lessons 
or  tracing  spiritual  meanings.  I  never  should  have  made  a 
good  Greek,  to  people  the  natural  world  with  nymphs  and 
goddesses.  I  do  not  find  in  it  suggestions  for  an  old  age 
vision  of  death,  like  the  youthful  Bryant  And  yet  I  enjoy 
it  when  my  friends  make  Nature  a  setting  for  things 
human. 

A  favorite  painting  by  Sontag  represents  a  wild 
forest  scene.  In  the  foreground  is  a  log  cabin,  with  the 
blue  smoke  curling  upward.  Now  when  I  go  to  worship 
out  of  doors,  unless  I  have  some  creature  needs  which  man 
alone  can  supply,  I  prefer  to  take  my  forest  straight.  I 
object  to  intruders,  to  vulgar  tourists,  to  farmers  slashing 
into  my  favorite  woods.  But  I  am  glad  the  painter  put 
in  the  log  cabin.  Under  the  spell  of  his  art,  I  can  enter 
again  into  the  hardships  and  satisfactions  of  the  home- 
steader's life,  as  he  hews  a  farm  of  his  own  out  of  the 
timber.  In  a  certain  picture  of  the  Maine  coast,  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun  touch  the  top  of  the  cliffs,  the  masses  of 
cloud,  the  distant  island,  the  hollows  of  the  ocean  swell. 
But  it  is  good  that  the  artist  adds  some  ships,  to  catch 
the  golden  light  on  their  sails.  And  the  two  women  on 
the  rocks,  in  the  costume  of  1850,  give  a  touch  of  fellow- 
ship to  our  common  worship.  The  Angelus,  without  the 
tired  reverent  figures  and  the  distant  church  tower,  Vould 


40  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

be  merely  a  study  of  the  sunset  afterglow  in  chrome  yellow. 
By  putting  man  into  his  landscape,  the  artist  helps  us  to 
feel  that  God's  world  of  l^ature,  like  the  Sabbath,  was 
made  for  man. 

But  there  is  a  Divine  symbolism  in  the  outward  world 
which  even  the  most  sense-bound  of  nature  worshippers 
may  share,  when  a  Jesus  or  some  other  poet-teacher  leads 
the  way.  To  pick  a  lily,  and  think  that  it  is  God  who 
clothed  it  in  its  glorious  colors.  To  ride  along  a  forest 
road  in  October  and  feel  that  He  has  passed  by,  touching 
the  foliage  lightly  with  His  frost  brush. 

All  over  upland  and  lowland 
The  charm  of  the  golden  rod, — 

Some  of  us  call  it  Autumn 
And  others  call  it  God. 

Or  take  the  sunrise,  as  pictured  in  various  ages.  For 
the  singer  of  the  Rig  Veda,  "she  comes  like  a  fair  young 
maiden,  awakening  all  to  labor,  with  a  hundred  chariots 
comes  she,"  or  driving  before  her  the  red  cattle  of  the 
clouds.  In  Homer  too  she  is  the  rosy-fingered  goddess, 
rising  from  her  ocean  couch,  and  yoking  to  her  car  the 
swift  horses  that  carry  light  to  men.  With  the  Hebrew 
psalmist,  Jehovah  hac  pitched  a  tent  of  many  colors  for 
the  sun,  which  is  like  a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his 
chamber,  and  rejoices  as  an  athlete  to  run  his  race.  Or 
Jehovah  covereth  Himself  with  light  as  with  a  garment; 
He  maketh  the  clouds  His  chariot,  and  walketh  upon  the 
wings  of  the  wind.  In  Christian  poetry,  when  freed  from 
the  trammels  of  classical  convention,  the  symbolism 
changes: 

Out  of  the  scabbard  of  the  night. 

By  God's  hand  drawn, 
Flashes  the  shining  sword  of  light, 

And  lo !  the  Dawn. 


MAWS  COMMUNION  WITH  NATURE  41 

The  inner  court,  the  Holj  of  Holies,  ushers  us  into  the 
Presence.  It  is  entered,  at  rare  intervals,  by  the  high 
priests  of  humanity,  who  see  the  natural  world  with  the 
eyes  of  a  mystic.  There  come  moments  in  the  life  of  man 
when  "this  earth  he  walks  on  seems  not  earth."  And  the 
vision  melts  into  the  glow  of  rapturous  assurance.  The 
literature  of  Mysticism  shows  us  how  religious  men,  in  all 
ages,  have  found  communion  with  NTature  a  communion 
with  God. 

The  God  we  find  in  ^Nature  will  be  the  God  we  have 
already  come  to  know  through  instruction  and  social  wor- 
ship. But  the  Presence  is  there,  for  the  seer,  no  matter 
how  unorthodox,  to  discover  and  possess.  Berenson  has 
called  attention  to  the  mystical  value  of  space-composition 
in  the  Umbrian  school  of  painters,  notably  Perugino.  His 
art,  while  we  are  under  its  spell,  "woos  us  away  from  our 
tight,  painfully  limited  selves,  dissolves  us  into  the  space 
presented,  until  at  last  we  seem  to  become  its  permeating, 
indwelling  spirit."  ^ 

Perugino  but  reproduces  the  elemental  rapture  which 
Nature  brings  at  times,  especially  in  far  perspectives.  A 
feeling  of  awful  yet  thrilling  immensity,  a  quickened  pulse 
and  breathing,  the  sense  of  being  in  the  very  presence 
of  God  Himself.  In  various  situations  it  comes  to  me. 
Not  only  in  a  building  with  lofty  arches,  a  cathedral,  or 
one  of  our  really  great  railway  stations.  But  under  the 
stars  on  a  clear  night.  Or  on  stepping  forth  of  a  morning 
beneath  the  measureless  sky  of  the  West,  where  the  blue 
stretches  haze-less  to  the  horizon.  I  have  the  same  sensa- 
tion when  I  come  out  upon  a  mountain  crest,  and  look 
off  on  wave  after  wave  of  giant  peaks. 

This  overwhelming  sense  of  the  Divine  in  Nature  comes 
to  many  through  the  medium  of  wide  spaces.  Some  few, 
like  Whitman,  are  able  to  gain  from  any  natural  object 
the  same  inward  identification  with  the  Universe.  Even 
as  a  child,  he  tells  us,  he  became  the  things  he  looked  on, 

"B.  Berenson,  Central  Italian  Painters,  1897,  102. 


42  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

and  these  objects  became  part  of  him,  whether  they  were 
early  lilacs,  or  "the  sow's  pink-faint  litter,"  or  water  plants 
waving  their  graceful  flat  heads  at  the  bottom  of  the  pond. 
The  French  writer  Senancoiirt  tells  of  walking  the  streets 
of  Paris  on  a  dark  day  in  early  March.  He  was  gloomy, 
and  walked  because  he  had  nothing  to  do.  He  passed  a 
jonquil  in  full  bloom,  bearing  the  first  perfume  of  the  year. 
In  that  instant,  his  cup  of  happiness  overflowed.  Unutter- 
able harmony,  the  sense  of  being  in  touch  with  the  ideal 
world,  arose  in  him  complete. 

Whether  in  the  rapt  contemplation  of  the  mystic,  or  the 
frank  enjoyment  of  natural  forms  and  colors,  communion 
with  the  external  world  is,  from  our  biological  standpoint, 
a  most  important  side  of  human  experience.  Love  of 
^Nature  is  a  comparatively  modern  mood.  But  behind 
it  lie  the  wonder  and  awe  which  have  played  such  a  large 
part  in  the  history  of  Religion.  In  his  emotional  life,  as 
well  as  in  thinking  and  practical  affairs,  we  find  man 
seeking  to  adjust  himself  to  his  Environment.  The  Uni- 
verse, which  the  religious  man  calls  the  manifestation  of 
God,  is  here.  Whatever  names  we  may  give  to  it,,  we  can- 
not escape  from  its  contact.  In  the  words  of  the  Hebrew 
psalmist:  "Whither  shall  I  go  from  Thy  Spirit?  Or 
whither  shall  I  flee  from  Thy  presence?  If  I  mount  up 
into  the  sky.  Thou  art  there.  If  I  lie  down  in  the  under- 
world, behold  Thou  art  there.  The  darkness  and  the  light 
are  both  alike  to  Thea" 


Y. 


THE  EAETH  AHD  THE  UNIVEESE. 

We  turn  from  the  murmuring  brooks  and  sunset  colors 
of  this  pleasant  earth,  divinely  fair,  to  consider  again  the 
stellar  universe,  and  the  problem  which  it  forces  upon  our 
minds.  Jesus'  ideas  of  astronomy  were  those  of  his  own 
time.  The  sky  was  God's  throne,  and  the  earth  His  foot- 
stool. The  Master's  theory  of  the  world  was  geocentric; 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  notion  of  other  pos- 
sible worlds  ever  entered  his  thought.  This  earth  and  the 
life  of  man  upon  it  were  the  center  of  God's  interest.  Here 
the  spiritual  order  was  to  be  developed.  God's  Kingdom 
was  to  come.  His  will  to  be  done,  on  earth  as  in  heaven. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  the  Christian  hypothesis  meets 
its  second  test.  Can  it  be  made  to  fit  the  Universe  of  our 
growing  knowledge?  When  Copernicus  in  1543  estab- 
lished the  fact  that  the  earth  is  one  of  the  planets  revolving 
about  the  sun,  and  that  the  sun  is  a  component  part  of  the 
vast  system  of  fixed  stars,  it  came  as  a  distinct  shock  to 
religious  thought.  The  earth  seemed  to  dwindle  in  this 
larger  perspective,  and  human  life  to  lose  its  unique  sig- 
nificance. 

What  are  the  general  features  of  this  physical  Universe 
in  which  our  lives  are  spent  ?  Nothing  is  final  in  Astron- 
omy. Cosmic  philosophies,  built  up  with  great  learning 
and  enthusiasm,  have  been  left  behind  as  mere  landmarks 
in  the  progress  of  Thought.  Theory  has  ebbed  and  flowed, 
as  new  evidence  pointed  this  way  or  that.  Dr.  See  pub- 
lished one  view  of  stellar  evolution  in  1896,  and  quite 
another  view  in  1910.     The  same  tidal  approximation 

43 


44  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

toward  the  truth  may  be  expected  in  the  coming  days.  In 
this  year  of  our  Lord  1921,  the  general  picture  given  by 
astronomers  is  something  like  this.  I  introduce  the  cor- 
rections which  seem  to  be  called  for  by  Shapley'S  study  of 
globular  clusters.^ 

Our  home  is  in  the  Milky  Way.  And  the  Galaxy,  which 
forms  a  sort  of  celestial  metropolis,  is  not  laid  out  as  a 
band  around  the  sky,  but  as  a  disk,  filled  with  stars  and 
gaseous  clouds.  Its  outer  diameter  is  estimated  by  Shap- 
ley  at  300,000  light  years.  To  locate  our  solar  system  more 
exactly,  it  lies  roughly  in  the  plane  of  the  disk,  but  de- 
cidedly off  from  the  center.  According  to  the  latest  cen- 
sus, the  galactic  metropolis  contains  approximately  a  bil- 
lion stars,  counting  only  those  which  are  illuminated.  They 
are  separated  from  each  other  by  an  average  distance  of 
about  13  light  years,  or  a  little  over  76  trillion  miles.  The 
apparent  concentration  of  small  stars  in  a  belt  across  the 
heavens,  is  explained  by  their  distance;  we  are  looking 
through  a  greater  depth,  that  is  through  the  plane  of  the 
disk. 

Eddington  has  shown  that  the  bright  stars  are  fairly  uni- 
form in  mass,  in  spite  of  exceptional  giants,  like  the  newly 
famous  Betelgeuse.  They  appear  to  be  passing  through  an 
ascending  and  descending  series,  the  color  varying  as  the 
temperature  rises  or  falls.    The  action  of  gravitation,  what- 

*  A  fuller  treatment  will  be  found  in  Appendix  B.  Recent  Progress 
in  Cosmogony.  Any  attempt  today  at  an  astronomical  compendium, 
is  like  trying  to  lay  out  a  new  atlas,  with  national  boundaries 
changing  from  week  to  week.  For  general  introductions,  I  refer 
the  reader  to  F.  K.  Moulton,  Introd.  to  Asiron.,  new  ed.,  1912; 
H.  Jacoby,  Astronomy,  1913;  Adolpho  Stahl  Lectures  in  Astron.y 
Astron.  Soc.  of  Pacific,  1919.  For  methods  and  results  of  Astro- 
physics: G.  E.  Hale,  Study  of  Stellar  Evol,  1908;  W.  W.  Camp- 
bell, Stellar  Motions,  1913;  A.  S.  Eddington,  Stellar  Movements  and 
the  Struc.  of  the  Univ.,  1914.  For  cosmogony:  T.  J.  J.  See, 
Researches  on  Evol.  of  Stellar  Syst's,  vol.  2,  1910,  rather  dogmatic; 
S.  Arrhenius,  Worlds  m  the  MaJcing,  1908;  Destinies  of  the  Starsi, 
1918;  J.  H.  Jeans,  Problems  of  Cosmogony  and  Stellar  Dynamics, 
1919.  For  Geology:  T.  C.  Chamberlin,  Origin  of  the  Earth,  1916: 
F.  W.  Clarke,  Data  of  Geochemistry,  4th  ed.,  1920;  L.  V.  Pirrson  and 
Chas.  Schuchert,  Text  Book  of  Qeol.f  1915;  Lull,  etc.,  Evol.  of  the 
Earth,  1918. 


THE  EARTH  AND  THE  UNIVERSE  45 

ever  that  is,  would  tend  to  draw  the  stars  together  in  ever- 
growing masses.  But  this  is  probably  balanced  by  the  scat- 
tering influences  of  electrical  repulsion,  radiation  pressure, 
and  perhaps  explosion.  Particles  of  star  dust,  escaping 
from  the  gaseous  stars,  form  dark  nebulous  clouds.  These 
in  turn  condense  to  make  new  heavenly  bodies.  Some 
features  of  our  present  Universe  point  toward  an  earlier 
stage,  many  hundreds  of  million  years  ago,  when  the 
material  later  made  into  stars  formed  an  undifferentiated 
mass  of  rarified  gas. 

When  we  pass  from  the  metropolis  and  its  suburbs  to 
the  country  districts,  we  find  two  dominant  types  of  heav- 
enly bodies.  The  spiral  nebulae,  of  which  about  half  a 
million  have  been  detected,  are  apparently  moving  away 
from  the  Galaxy  with  great  velocity.  The  condensed 
globular  clusters  of  stars — 86  of  them  according  to  the 
latest  count — are  moving  toward  the  Milky  Way,  and  come 
closest  to  it  on  the  opposite  side. 

How  are  we  to  regard  these  extra-galactic  or  rural 
groups?  Each  globular  cluster  appears  to  be  a  separate 
and  complete  system.  Do  they  represent  other  universes  ? 
Shapley  considers  them  rather  as  appendages  of  the  Milky 
Way.  They  are  miniature  galaxies,  rather  than  coequals. 
The  Hercules  cluster,  for  example,  has  a  diameter  of  only 
1100  light  years,  with  a  limited  number  of  stars.  In  a 
later  paper  he  attacks  the  question  of  the  spiral  nebulae, 
and  reaches  a  similar  conclusion.  They  must  be  regarded 
as  genuine  nebulae,  rather  than  as  collections  of  stars 
which  form  "island  universes."  ^ 

Do  these  spirals  and  clusters  represent  the  outlying 
portions  of  our  Universe,  and  suggest  its  order  of  magni- 
tude ?  Or  is  the  Universe  infinite  in  extent,  and  filled  with 
an  infinite  number  of  stars  ?  The  light  which  reaches  us 
from  the  stars  as  a  whole  is  limited.  On  this  ground  the 
majority  of  astronomers  had  decided  a  few  years  ago  in 
favor  of  a  finite  Universe.     The  question  was  reopened, 

*Pullid's  of  Astronom.  8oo.  of  Pacific,  Oct.,  1919. 


46  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

with  the  discovery  of  a  certain  amount  of  star  dust  in 
inter-stellar  space.  This  suggested  the  possibility  of  a 
"fog,"  as  Turner  calls  it,  which  cuts  oif  part  of  the  light. 
But  Shapley  has  shown  that  there  is  no  appreciable  ab- 
sorption of  light  in  any  part  of  the  sky.^  If  our  tele- 
scopes can  penetrate  to  over  200,000  light  years,  it  is  hard 
to  see  how  any  great  amount  of  light  can  be  cut  off  by  fog. 
Apparently  we  are  forced  back  to  the  conception  of  a 
finite  Universe,  with  definite  though  vastly  extended  boun- 
daries. This,  in  connection  with  the  relativity  principle, 
may  require  the  revision  of  many  of  our  ideas  of  ther- 
modynamics.* 

By  way  of  parenthesis,  I  may  remark  that  the  question 
of  a  finite  or  an  infinite  Universe  has  no  bearing  on  the 
Christian  hypothesis,  except  to  determine  the  particular 
form  which  must  be  assigned  to  God  in  His  physical  mani- 
festation. '  Infinity  is  purely  a  spatial  term.  Space,  if  we 
accept  Einstein's  principle,  is  not  a  frame  of  reference,  but 
a  series  of  relations.  A  finite  Universe  is  one  whose  rela- 
tions are  capable  of  measurement  An  infinite  Universe 
would  be  a  Universe  whose  relations  extend  so  far  that 
we  cannot  expect  to  measure  them  with  any  instruments 
at  our  command.  .  Whether  God,  in  His  physical  manifes- 
tation, is  measurable  or  immeasurable,  is  a  question  of 
fact,  which  Astronomy  alone  can  settle. 

Another  equally  futile  question  is  whether  the  history 
and  arrangement  of  the  Universe  gives  any  indication  of 
an  intelligent  plan.  Thus  far  Astronomy  has  done  little 
more  than  draw  up  working  theories  which  may  serve  as 
guides  for  further  investigation.  We  do  not  know  what  is 
the  arrangement  of  units  and  forces  within  the  stellar 

*  Ohservatory,  Feb.,  1919.  Lebedew  came  to  the  same  conclusion 
a  few  years  ago,  from  a  study  of  light  waves.  Kapteyn's  studies 
appear  to  point  to  the  selective  absorption  of  certain  rays,  the  red- 
ness of  the  stars  increasing  with  their  distance.  Astrophya.  «/., 
29,  46,  1909;  30,  284,  1909;  40,  187,  1914. 

*This  subject  is  discussed  briefly  in  my  Unfolding  Universe, 
57-60. 


THE  EAETH  AND  THE  UNIVERSE  ^7 

Universe,  either  in  the  present  or  the  past.  The  dogmatism 
of  the  19th  century  cosmic  philosophers  would  be  entirely 
out  of  place.  Until  astronomers  give  us  this  necessary 
knowledge,  it  is  premature  to  discuss  the  plan  of  the  stellar 
world.  Personally  I  doubt  whether  the  question  will  ever 
be  in  order.  The  Universe  is  here,  to  be  accepted  and 
studied,  rather  than  criticized.  Man's  reason  is  a  very 
inadequate  standard.  It  is  of  little  value  to  know  whether 
the  actual  system  is  an  intelligent  arrangement,  such  as 
would  be  made  by  the  person  who  asks  whether  it  is  intel- 
ligent. 

Let  us  pass  to  a  more  specific  question:  the  possibility 
of  life  on  other  worlds.  It  is  quite  common  to  assume  that 
the  earth  is  not  unique  in  this  regard.  Dr.  See,  for 
example,  speaks  of  "millions  of  similar  [solar]  systems, 
with  habitable  planets,  which  may  now  be  confidently 
inferred  to  exist  in  the  immensity  of  space."  Arrhenius 
makes  the  same  assumption,  and  on  it  bases  his  new  theory 
of  panspermism.  Wallace,  in  his  very  able  book  on  Mans 
Place  in  the  Universe,^  argued  against  this,  on  the  law  of 
probability.  It  will  be  well  to  restate  Wallace's  argument, 
with  the  modifications  in  detail  due  to  our  advancing 
knowledge. 

What  are  the  factors  necessary  for  the  development  of 
protoplasmic  life,  the  only  life  we  know  ?  Reducing  Wal- 
lace's table  to  somewhat  simpler  terms,  we  may  name  four 
essential  conditions,  {a)  A  mean  temperature  well  above 
the  freezing  point,  and  not  in  excess  of  about  73°  C. 
(&)  Water  in  sufficient  quantity,  and  uniformly  dis- 
tributed, (c)  An  atmosphere  with  an  ample  supply  of 
carbon  dioxide,  and,  for  higher  forms  of  life,  free  oxygen. 
{d)  Sufficient  nitrogen  or  nitrogen  compounds,  carried 
from  the  air  into  moist  earth  or  standing  water. 

The  presence  and  maintenance  of  these  factors  require  a 
heat  producing  body  of  approximately  the  temperature  and 
distance  of  the  sun ;  a  planetary  mass  sufficient  to  retain  a 

•Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  3rd  ed.,  1905. 


48  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

dense  atmospliere  and  hydrosphere ;  and  volcanic  action  of 
the  earth's  crust  that  will  keep  up  the  supply  of  carbon 
dioxide.  These  conditions  the  earth  has  fulfilled  during 
the  geologic  period,  usually  estimated  (both  from  the  depth 
of  sedimentary  rocks  and  from  the  amount  of  salt  in  the 
ocean)  as  100  million  years.  Have  the  conditions  been 
met  elsewhere? 

None  of  the  other  members  of  our  solar  system  are  cap- 
able of  supporting  life.  The  larger  planets  are  masses  of 
gas.  Mercury,  and  probably  Venus,  always  presents  the 
same  face  to  the  sun.  Mars,  the  only  promising  candi- 
date, now  is  considered  to  have  a  mean  summer  tempera- 
ture at  the  equator  of  — 27°  C.^  Its  mass,  approximately 
one-tenth  that  of  the  earth,  is  not  sufficient  to  retain  an 
atmosphere  and  hydrosphere.  The  so-called  "canals"  are 
merely  volcanic  fissures.  Changing  colors  are  not  due  to 
vegetation,  but  to  various  salts  and  oxides,  either  dry  or  in 
solution.  The  attempt  of  Lowell  and  others  to  show  the 
habitability  of  Mars,  has  not  been  creditable  to  Science. 
Able  astronomers  let  their  imaginations  run  riot,  and 
proved  anything  they  wished  to  prove,  amid  deafening 
applause  from  the  galleries. 

We  must  guard  against  similar  credulity  in  regard  to 
habitable  planets  in  other  parts  of  the  sky.  Of  the  im- 
mense number  of  bright  stars,  very  few  appear  to  have 
duplicated  the  conditions  of  our  solar  system.  A  hundred 
million  years  is  the  time  we  have  assigned  to  the  organic 
history  of  the  earth.  Careful  calculation  shows  that  dur- 
ing this  period  only  a  little  over  2000  stars  are  likely  to 
have  had  close  encounters  with  other  stars.''  Only  a  small 
proportion  of  these  encounters  would  have  produced  plane- 
tary systems.  Of  the  planets  thus  formed,  not  all  would 
furnish  the  conditions  found  on  our  earth. 

Wallace's  argument,  as  I  have  restated  it,  seems  to  me 
to  be  against  the  probability  of  the  simultaneous  exist- 

"Arrhenius,  Destinies  of  the  Stars,  1918,  chap.  6. 
'See  Appendix  C.    Eahitahle  Plcmets  among  the  Stars? 


THE  EARTH  AND  THE  UNIVERSE  49 

ence  of  another  habitable  planet.  In  the  immense  stretch 
of  astronomical  time  the  case  is  somewhat  altered.  A  re- 
currence of  the  conditions  found  on  the  earth  is  possible, 
we  might  say  probable.  When  low  forms  of  life  began  on 
our  earth,  100  million  years  ago,  a  race  of  men  on  some 
distant  planet  may  have  been  just  ending  their  planetary- 
career.  That  is  if  life  always  follows  in  the  Universe, 
when  the  conditions  necessary  for  life  are  met. 

If  the  general  probabilities  are  what  I  have  stated,  it 
is  not  necessary  to  consider  Arrhenius'  ingenious  revival 
of  the  theory  that  spores  from  other  inhabited  worlds 
emigrated  to  our  earth  through  inter-stellar  space.  Even 
if  such  transfer  were  possible,  spores  are  far  too  scarce 
an  article  to  fit  the  case.  At  best,  this  solution  would 
only  push  the  problem  one  step  farther  back.  The  origin 
of  life  still  demands  explanation. 

The  present  biological  situation,  in  the  light  of  our 
conception  of  the  Universe  as  dynamic  rather  than  mate- 
rial, calls  for  an  entirely  different  line  of  approach.  I 
recur  to  the  idea  which  strongly  appealed  to  Haeckel, 
though  stated  by  him  with  many  dogmatisms  and  incon- 
sistencies. The  Universe  which  we  know  as  physical,  is 
at  the  same  time  endowed  with  the  properties  which  appear 
to  us  as  organic  and  psychical.  To  put  it  in  another  way, 
the  forces  of  the  Universe  will,  under  certain  conditions, 
interact  with  the  electron  groups  which  we  call  Matter, 
in  the  various  forms  of  living  protoplasm. 

Just  what  are  the  conditions  of  such  interaction,  the 
terms  on  which  the  physical  may  become  the  organic,  we 
do  not  know.  But  we  may  hope  to  learn.  The  general 
hypothesis  I  have  stated,  which  may  be  called  the  working 
theory  of  present-day  Biology,  has  certain  practical  ad- 
vantages. It  offers  a  clue  for  investigation.  It  may  con- 
ceivably be  verified  by  experiment  Definite  chemical 
theories  of  life's  origin  are  as  yet  tentative,  we  might  say 
premature.  They  need  not  be  discussed  in  detail.  I 
merely  refer  the  reader  to  Woodruff's  excellent  summary 


60  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

of  ^ve  recent  suggestions:  Pfliiger's  cyanogen  theory, 
Moore's  law  of  increasing  physical  complexity,  Allen's 
primitive  nitrogen  compounds,  Troland's  enzyme  theory, 
and  Oshom's  mutually  attractive  colloids.^ 

Each  important  discovery  serves  to  narrow  the  problem. 
As  we  gain  surer  knowledge  of  the  structure  and  activities 
of  one-celled  organisms,  as  we  unravel,  step  by  step,  the 
marvellous  complexity  of  the  albumin  molecules  which 
appear  to  be  the  basis  of  protoplasm,  as  we  learn  the 
chemical  nature  of  enzymes  and  other  agents  of  the  cell, — 
we  may  expect  some  day  to  know  and  recreate  the  condi- 
tions of  organic  life.  It  may  never  be  possible  to  construct 
in  the  laboratory  even  the  simplest  cell.  But  it  is  within 
the  bounds  of  possibility  that  we  shall  be  able  to  put 
together  some  of  the  simpler  aggregations  of  molecules 
from  which  the  cell  has  grown,  and  see  them  showing  quasi- 
biotic  activities. 

Such  a  goal  is  the  inspiration  of  the  modem  scientist. 
The  worker  in  Biology  believes  himself  to  be  tracing  the 
beginnings  of  that  process  of  organic  action  and  inter- 
action which  forms  one  of  the  most  fascinating  mysteries 
of  our  mysterious  Universe.  He  might  well  say,  with  the 
great  astronomer,  "I  think  Thy  thoughts  after  Thee." 
The  religious  idea,  as  stated  in  the  pictorial  language  of 
primitive  thought,  that  God  breathed  into  clay  the  breath 
of  life,  is  entirely  consistent  with  the  scientific  statement 
that,  under  certain  conditions,  carbon  compounds  show 
new  properties  and  behavior  which  we  call  organic.     In 

•L.  L.  Woodruff,  in  Evolution  of  the  Earth,  1918,  lecture  3; 
E.  Pfliiger,  Arch.  f.  d.  ges.  Physiol.,  vol.  10,  1875;  Benj.  Moore, 
Origin  cmd  Nature  of  Life,  1912;  F.  J.  Allen,  What  is  Life?  Bir- 
mingham Nat.  Hist,  and  Philos.  Soc.,  11,  44,  1899;  L.  T.  Troland, 
Mdnist,  24,  92,  1914;  and  H.  F.  Osborn,  Origin  and  Evol.  of  Life, 
1917,  67  //.  To  these  should  be  added  the  osmosis  theory  of 
Stephanne  Leduc,  Mechanism  of  Life,  Eng.  trans.,  1911.  See  also 
articles  by  E.  A.  Schafer  and  H.  E.  Armstrong,  reprinted  in  Smith- 
sonian Inst.  Report,  1912,  493,  527;  E.  A.  Minchin,  Evolution  of 
the  Cell,  Am.  Naturalist,  50,  pp.  1,  106,  270,  1916;  Felix  le  Dantec, 
Nature  and  Origin  of  Life,  Eng.  trans.,  1906. 


THE  EARTH  AND  THE  UNIVERSE  51 

fact,  if  we  believe  that  God  is  revealed  to  us  in  the  physical 
TTniverse,  the  two  statements  are  identical. 

Man's  place  in  the  Universe  is  not  a  question  of  stellar 
geography,  or  of  the  number  of  inhabited  worlds.  The 
moral  value  of  human  life,  the  achievements  of  the  human 
mind,  the  development  of  a  social  order, — these  retain  the 
place  which  they  held  at  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era.  The  Christian  hypothesis  is  not  affected  by  the  ex- 
panding idea  of  the  world.  Modem  Astronomy  has  merely 
given  human  life  a  larger  perspective.  Man  has  become 
indeed  a  cosmopolitan.  The  Universe  of  his  adjustment 
has  taken  grander  outKnes.  Our  God  is  a  greater  God, 
He  no  longer  is  localized  or  provincial.  But  He  is  the 
same  God.  The  very  uniformity  of  Nature  must  give  the 
Universe  an  identical  character,  whether  on  the  foothills 
of  an  earthly  Galilee  or  in  the  recesses  of  Orion. 


VI. 

THE  UNIVERSE  UNFOLDING. 

In  the  background  of  the  previous  discussion  another 
question  has  been  lurking.  Christianity  asserts  a  goal  in 
organic  creation.  God  works  for  a  definite  end :  the  mak- 
ing and  perfecting  of  Man.  Is  such  teleology  consistent 
with  the  facts  of  Biology  as  we  know  them  ?  This  is  the 
third  test  of  the  Christian  hypothesis. 

The  general  idea  of  evolution,  rather  than  special  crea- 
tion, is  entirely  consistent  with  the  conception  of  the  Uni- 
verse which  we  have  already  reached.  In  fact,  no  other 
view  harmonizes  with  Jesus'  idea  of  God's  activity  in 
Nature.  The  Master  himself  suggested  the  method  of 
gradual  unfolding,  though  he  had  no  basis  for  applying 
it  to  biology.  If  we  accept  the  doctrine  of  organic  evolu- 
tion, and  conceive  of  God  as  working  from  within  rather 
than  without,  we  should  be  prepared  to  take  the  conse- 
quences. One  of  these  is  that  the  God  revealed  through 
Biology  must  be  the  same  as  the  God  revealed  by  Christ. 
Otherwise  the  Christian  theory  of  the  Universe  would  fail 
to  square  with  the  fact.  Man  is  the  culmination  of  a 
long  evolutionary  process.  Was  this  an  accident,  or  was  it 
an  inevitable  result  of  the  forces  involved  ?  Let  me  review 
the  question  of  the  origin  of  species  as  it  stands  today.  ^ 

In  evolutionary  theory,  the  extreme  Darwinians  held 

the  fidd  for  two  generationa.     The  origin  of  species  was 

*A  good  elementary  treatment  will  be  found  in  John  M.  Coulter, 
Evolution,  Heredity  and  Eugenics,  1916;  and,  with  M.  C.  Coulter, 
Plant  Genetics,  1918.  See  also  R.  C.  Punett,  Mendelism,  5th  ed., 
1919;  T.  H.  Morgan,  Evolution  and  Ado/ptation,  1903;  Physical 
Basis  of  Inheritance,  1919;  W.  Bateson,  Prohlema  of  Genetics, 
1913. 

fi2 


THE  UmVEKSE  UNFOLDING  53 

attributed  to  minute  fluctuations,  in  size,  color,  form  and 
organs.  These,  if  of  any  advantage  in  the  intense  struggle 
for  existence,  were  perpetuated  by  natural  selection.  The 
individuals  lacking  this  small  advantage  were  extermi- 
nated. These  selected  organisms  were  in  turn  subject  to 
fluctuation  and  selection.  The  net  result  was  a  slow  but 
definite  modification  of  structure,  by  which  they  became 
better  adapted  to  surrounding  conditions.  Continued  long 
enough,  and  with  the  environment  changing  from  time  to 
time,  the  process  was  supposed  to  bring  into  being  the 
millions  of  distinct  varieties  and  species  found  on  our 
planet.  Progress  represented  the  summation  of  a  series 
of  fortunate  accidents.  Natural  Selection  was  the  deus 
ex  machina.  The  successful  individual  or  species  was  a 
sort  of  juggernaut,  riding  to  power  over  the  bleeding  bodies 
of  those  that  had  failed  in  the  struggle,  proved  themselves 
unfitted  to  survive.  It  was  a  complete  though  cruel  pic- 
ture. Some  biologists  still  hold  to  it  in  toto;  parts  of  it 
must  be  retained  on  any  theory.  The  doctrine  of  progress 
through  struggle  left  a  deep  and  in  many  ways  unfor- 
tunate impression  on  the  thought  of  our  age.  The  World 
War  was  a  logical  consequence  of  the  idea  that  you  must 
kill  off  your  competitors  in  order  to  survive. 

Another  era  began  in  1900,  with  the  rediscovery  of 
MendeFs  principle  of  unit  characters,  and  de  Vries'  study 
of  mutations  in  the  evening  primrose.  The  new  school  of 
Biology  differs  from  the  old  in  three  important  particu- 
lars. In  the  first  place,  the  study  of  genetics  is  on  an 
experimental  basis.  The  specific  characters  of  plant  and 
animal  groups  must  be  determined,  not  by  surface  resem- 
blances, but  through  breeding  experiments  in  the  labora- 
tory. Mendel's  law  makes  possible  the  manipulation  and 
control  of  the  various  factors  which  are  brought  out  by 
crossing  and  segregated  in  line  breeding.  Secondly,  at- 
tention is  directed,  not  to  fluctuations,  but  to  true  varia- 
tions, which  hg^ve  their  seat  in  the  germ  cell.  Johannsen 
showed  that  in  a  pure  line,  though  the  size  fluctuated  con- 


U  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

stantly,  the  differences  were  not  inherited,  and  could  not  be 
selected  in  a  way  to  affect  the  mean  of  the  race.  The  mod- 
em plant  or  animal  breeder  goes  deeper,  and  works  with 
heritable  factors.  These  may  be  either  recombinations  or 
mutations.^ 

In  the  third  place,  the  mutationist  school  has  given  up 
hunting  for  reasons  why  the  new  form  is  better  fitted  to 
survive.  Adaptation  is  no  longer  the  sole  criterion  for 
species  making.  Struggle  has  no  necessary  connection 
with  progress.  The  new  characters  that  appear  may  be  of 
distinct  adrantage  to  the  organism,  and  again  they  may 
not.  If  mutations  or  new  combinations  manage  to  secure 
a  foothold,  they  will  live  on  side  by  side  with  the  older 
and  possibly  more  adaptable  type.  ITature  is  a  very  hos- 
pitable host.^  Advance  in  structure  has  probably  been  by 
large  rather  than  small  steps.  It  is  only  in  the  case  of  a 
new  factor  which  represents  marked  improvement  in 
adaptation,  that  selection  tends  to  weed  out  older  forms. 
The  one-toed  horse  displaced  the  two-toed  horse,  very  much 
as  the  pneumatic  tire  displaced  the. solid  rubber  tire  on 
the  bicycle. 

This  shift  of  scientific  opinion  not  only  cuts  the  ground 
from  under  the  competition  theory,  in  its  applications  to 
man's  social  history.  It  enables  us  to  take  the  organic 
world  as  we  find  it,  in  its  infinite  and  fascinating  variety, 
without  that  inventing  of  imaginary  means  to  serve  hypo- 
thetical ends,  which  vitiated  the  whole  Darwinian  school, 
as  it  did  the  earlier  school  of  Paley.  If  there  is  teleology 
in  l!Tature,  it  is  not  of  the  pure  natural  selection  brand. 
The  one-toed  horse  is  a  one-toed  horse  because  a  certain 
recombination  of  factors  in  its  germ  plasm,  with  which 

'See  Appendix  D.     The  Emergence  of  a  Neio  Species. 

'Survival  is  chiefly  a  question  of  fortunate  location,  or  of  indi- 
vidual reproductive  power  and  general  vigor,  and  in  cross-fertilized 
plants  the  most  vigorous  individuals  are  hybrids.  Pure  lines  are 
largely  man's  creation.  Most  of  the  forms  which  have  been  made 
or  discovered  in  the  laboratory,  and  used  for  starting  new  lines, 
would  not  have  been  selected  automatically  by  Nature. 


THE  UOTVEESE  UNFOLDINa  55 

selection  was  not  concerned,  gave  it  one  toe  on  each  foot 
instead  of  two. 

What  are  these  factors,  or  "genes,"  which  lie  at  the  hasis 
of  the  origin  of  species,  and  which  the  plant  breeder  is 
able  to  some  extent  to  manipulate  ?  We  do  not  know,  any 
more  than  the  chemist,  up  to  a  few  years  ago,  knew  the 
nature  of  the  elements  he  mixed  in  his  test  tubes.  I  mean 
this  comparison  to  suggest  two  things.  The  progress  of 
Science  may  be  expected  to  throw  definite  light  on  the 
problem.  And  the  solution  is  likely  to  be  found  in  the 
field  of  organic  chemistry.  Castle,  whose  return  to  the 
mutationist  ranks  is  an  event  of  the  greatest  importance, 
states  that  the  result  of  his  recent  experiments  with 
piebald  rats  "favors  the  widely  accepted  view  that  the 
single  gene  is  not  subject  to  fluctuating  variability,  but  is 
stable  like  a  chemical  compound  of  definite  composition, 
and  changes  only  similarly,  by  definite  steps."  * 

From  the  standpoint  of  Physics,  which  no  physical 
phenomena  can  escape,  organisms  represent  the  transfor- 
mation of  familiar  and  measurable  energies,  and  the 
rearrangement  of  equally  familiar  atoms  and  molecules. 
The  transformations  and  arrangments  are  of  very  much 
greater  complexity  than  in  the  organic  field.  But  they  are 
the  same  in  kind,  and  follow  the  same  laws.  Recent  lit- 
erature bears  eloquent  witness  to  this  general  fact.^  There 
is  a  growing  impression  that  evolution,  whether  in  stars 
or  crystals,  in  colloids  or  organisms,  is  one  process,  which 
in  all  its  phases  is  equally  characteristic  of  the  Universe.^ 

If  the  environment  of  the  organism  is  physico-chemical, 
and  the  germ  cell  is  itself  a  physico-chemical  phenomenon, 
variation,  like  life  itself,  must  be  due  to  the  interaction  of 
these  two  sets  of  closely  related  factors.  In  this  regard 
the  religious  and  scientific  standpoints  are  identical,  since 
our  knowledge  of  God's  method  in  Evolution  is  derived 

*W.  E.  Castle,  Proo.  Nat.  Acad.  Sci.,  5,  126,  1919. 

*  See  Appendix  E.     Chemistry  and  the  Organism. 

•  This  view  has  been  ably  presented  by  L.  J.  Henderson,  Fitness  of 
the  Environment,  1913;  Order  of  Nature,  1917. 


66  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

solely  from  the  study  of  ISTatiire.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  God  acts  through  a  hypothetical  entelechy  or 
vital  force.  When  we  once  recognize  the  essentially  dy- 
namic character  of  the  physical  Universe,  God  may  act 
equally  well  through  an  enzyme  or  an  amino  acid. 

I  ask  the  reader  to  hold  in  aheyance  the  question  as  to 
whether  variation,  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  the  origin  of 
species,  is  anything  more  than  the  interaction  of  one  part 
of  the  Universe  with  another.  "We  are  concerned  in  this 
chapter  with  the  question  of  Teleology  in  regard  to  the 
evolutionary  process  as  a  whole.  In  discussing  Chaos  or 
Cosmos,  it  is  vitally  important  to  know  whether  organic 
history  represents  team-work  toward  a  definite  goal,  or 
whether  it  is  a  free-for-all  that  only  happens  to  arrive 
anywhere.  We  do  not  ask  at  this  point  what  the  organism 
is  in  itself,  or  how  we  are  to  explain  the  element  of  "be- 
havior," the  apparent  striving  of  the  living  unit  toward 
specific  ends.  In  the  next  section  of  our  book  I  shall  take 
up  the  problem  of  the  Individual. 

From  our  present  point  of  view,  organic  evolution  is  an 
"energy  traffic,"  to  use  Allen's  term,  through  the  medium 
of  organic  machines,  of  ever  increasing  complexity.  The 
most  complete  development  of  this  idea  is  that  of  Osborn, 
in  his  Origin  and  Evolution  of  Life  J  Beginning  with  the 
Bacteria,  which  are  able  to  capture  the  energy  in  certain 
chemical  elements,  we  pass  to  the  Algae,  whose  acquire- 
ment of  chlorophyll  makes  it  possible  to  transform  the 
energy  in  solar  rays.  The  Plants  represent  a  higher  de- 
velopment of  this  function.  At  a  later  stage,  the  Protozoa, 
through  their  better  chemical  equipment,  break  up  the 
energy  already  accumulated  by  the  bacteria  and  algae  on 
which  they  feed.  This  type  of  energy  transformer  is  de- 
veloped further  in  the  many-celled  animals,  which  likewise 
depend  on  organic  material,  largely  green  plants.     The 

'H.  F.  Osborn,  1917.  A  brief  outline  of  this  theory  is  given  in 
Appendix  F,  The  Evolution  of  the  Organic  Machine.  Cf.  D.  M.  S. 
Watson,  Science  Progress,  11,  216,  1916  j  Richard  S.  Lull,  in  Evol.  of 
the  Earth,  1918,  lecture  4. 


THE  UNIVERSE  UNFOLDING  67 

process  culminates  in  the  various  Vertebrate  types.  These 
show  an  increasingly  complex  and  adaptable  mechanism 
for  transforming  the  energy  stored  in  the  food  supply. 
As  Osborn  puts  it,  "the  solar  energy  transformed  into  the 
chemical  potential  energy  of  the  compounds  of  carbon, 
hydrogen,  and  oxygen  in  the  plants  is  transformed  by  the 
animal  into  motion  and  heat  and  then  dissipated.  Thus 
in  the  life  cycle  we  observe  both  the  conservation  and  the 
degradation  of  energy,  corresponding  with  the  first  and 
second  laws  of  thermodynamics."  ® 

In  the  development  of  this  energy  traffic,  we  note  three 
parallel  series  of  changes.  The  first  is  that  of  the  physical 
environment.  It  is  necessary  to  keep  constantly  in  mind 
the  geologic  fluctuations  which  have  taken  place  during 
these  hundred  million  years  or  more.  The  readjustment 
of  the  earth's  surface,  due  to  shrinkage  of  the  planetary 
mass,  brought  periodic  changes,  both  in  the  character  of 
the  land  and  in  the  distribution  of  land  and  water  areas. 
At  the  beginning  of  each  geologic  era,  we  see  the  re-eleva- 
tion of  continental  mountain  ranges.  This  was  accom- 
panied by  a  cold  period,  which  disarranged  all  organic 
life.  At  least  six  of  these  major  crises  are  known.  Minor 
readjustments  of  the  earth's  crust  brought  radical  if  less 
severe  changes  in  climate. 

Corresponding  with  these  physical  changes  are  those  in 
the  general  life  environment.  Each  period  of  the  history 
has  its  characteristic  fauna  and  flora.  The  organism  must 
face  new  enemies,  whether  predatory  creatures  or  disease- 
bearing  parasites.  The  food  supply  is  altered :  in  variety, 
quantity  and  distribution.  In  the  Cenozoic  era,  for 
example,  the  emergence  of  warm-blooded  Mammals  seems 
to  be  associated  with  the  rise  of  flowering  plants  and 
grasses.  The  drying  up  of  central  Asia,  at  a  later  period, 
compelled  the  early  Primates  to  descend  from  the  trees. 

The  third  line  of  change,  with  which  we  are  specially 
concerned,  is  that  in  the  organic  machine  itseK.  The 
•Op.  oit.,  53. 


58  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

situa/fcion,  particularly  at  certain  epochs,  put  a  premium 
on  adaptability.  This  might  take  the  direction  of  im- 
proved chemical  equipment,  which  made  it  possible  for 
the  organism  to  utilize  new  types  of  food.  It  might  lie 
along  the  line  of  greater  disease-resistance.  It  might  rep- 
resent an  improved  mechanism,  whether  for  capturing 
food,  for  escaping  enemies,  or  for  producing  or  protect- 
ing offspring.  Each  geologic  crisis  is  marked  by  the  scrap- 
ping of  much  of  the  previous  machinery.  "The  rulers  of 
the  various  domains  find  themselves  overtrained  and  over- 
specialized,  and  succumb  one  after  another  to  the  changing 
environment.  Their  places  are  taken  by  the  small,  less 
specialized,  and  heretofore  little  known  stocks,  which 
quickly  adapt  themselves  to  their  environments  and  become 
the  dominatoTS  of  the  organisms  about  them.  In  all  of  this 
unceasing  organic  struggle  most  of  the  unadaptive  families 
fail  to  continue;  others  are  pushed  by  the  pulse  of  life 
into  the  less  desirable  places,  where  they  continue  to  live 
as  static  forms — the  living  fossils  that  tell  us  so  much  that 
is  most  interesting  of  once  prominent  stocks  of  plants  and 
animals ;  but  at  all  times  much  of  life  quickly  responds  to 
the  changing  environment  and  is  remodelled  into  the  more 
fit,  active,  and  alert  types."  ^ 

Whatever  the  explanation  may  be,  students  of  Paleon- 
tol(^y  are  agreed  that  the  evolutionary  changes  in  any  type 
have  tended  to  show  progressive  adaptation.  The  empha- 
sis or  suppression  of  earlier  structures  or  proportions  has 
been  more  or  less  continuous,  involving  small  successive 
changes.  The  jaw  of  the  horse  may  be  used  as  an  example. 
Taking  first  the  premolars,  no  horse  from  the  Lower 
Eocene  has  been  found  with  any  fully  molariform  teeth. 
All  horses  from  the  Middle  Eocene  have  two  molariform 
teeth  in  the  lower  jaw.  From  the  Upper  Eocene,  all  horses 
have  four  such  teeth.  In  the  Oligocene  they  have  six. 
Turning  to  the  molars,  older  horses,  as  in  the  Oligocene, 
have   brachyodont   teeth   without   cement.     All   Miocene 

•Chas.  Schuchert,  in  Ewl.  of  the  Earth,  1918,  81. 


THE  UNIVEESE  UNFOLDING  59 

horses  are  progressively  hypsodont,  with  a  progressive  in- 
crease in  the  amount  of  cement.  The  milk  teeth  of 
Miocene  horses  have  practically  no  cement.  Those  of  all 
Pliocene  and  later  horses  are  heavily  cemented.^^ 

Something  of  the  same  process  appears  to  have  been 
going  on  in  the  evolution  of  the  nervous  system.  Only 
the  last  steps  in  the  long  and  fascinating  story  can  be  sug- 
gested here.  The  arboreal  life  of  the  early  Primates 
favored  a  high  development  of  the  senses  of  vision,  touch 
and  hearing,  with  the  corresponding  brain  areas.  Com- 
pelled by  further  geologic  changes  to  descend  to  the 
ground,  a  partly  erect  attitude  and  walking  gait  allow 
the  development  of  the  hands  and  fingers.  This  in  turn 
brings  further  growth  and  specialization  of  the  brain.  The 
Neanderthal  race,  which  flourished  in  Europe  in  the  early 
Pleistocene  (perhaps  800,000  years  ago),  stands  erect,  has 
a  well-developed  opposable  thumb,  and  the  brain  centers 
controlling  the  motions  of  the  limbs,  hands  and  fingers  are 
well  developed.  There  is  only  a  rudimentary  develop- 
ment of  the  anterior  centers  of  the  brain,  associated  with 
speech  and  ideation.  By  the  Aurignacean  age,  placed  by 
Osbom  at  25,000  years  ago,  but  probably  very  much 
earlier.  Homo  Sapiens  possesses  his  full  powers.  ^^ 

Our  interpretation  of  organic  evolution  as  the  perfect- 
ing of  a  physico-chemical  mechanism,  correlated  with  an 
environment  of  the  same  essential  character,  is  of  course 
only  provisional.  But  it  has  the  advantage  of  being  stated 
in  the  same  terms  that  are  now  being  used  for  the  origin 
of  life.^^    Let  us  see  where  this  interpretation  leads  us. 

It  is  perfectly  clear  that  God  did  not  plan  out  the  details 
of  creation,  as  a  human  executive  would  lay  out  a  schema 

"Wm.  K.  Gregory,  Am.  Naturalist,  50,  622,  1917,  with  quotation 
from  W.  D.  Matthew.  The  series  of  evolutionary  changes  men- 
tioned may  have  covered  a  period  of  12  million  years. 

"H.  F.  Osbom,  Men  of  the  Old  Stone  Age,  3rd  ed.,  1918;  G.  Elliot 
Smith,  Evolution  of  Man,  reprinted  in  Smithsonian  Inst.  Report, 
1912,  553;  Jos.  Barrell,  8ci.  Monthly,  4,  16,  1917. 

"See  ante  p.  49. 


60  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

of  development,  to  be  put  througli  according  to  a  certain 
schedule.  N"or  can  we  think  of  the  result  as  a  matter 
of  chance.  The  Universe  arrives.  The  perfecting  of  the 
animal  food  supply  makes  possible  the  evolution  of  animal 
life.  A  growing  adaptability  to  changing  environments 
culminates  in  the  intelligent  mastery  of  the  earth  by  the 
human  species.  If  there  is  life  on  other  worlds,  we  have 
every  reason  to  suppose  that  organic  evolution  would  fol- 
low parallel  lines,  and  reach  a  similar  specialization  of  the 
nervous  system.  But  it  has  taken  a  hundred  million  years. 
And  the  Universe  does  its  work  in  its  own  way. 

The  picture  of  God  which  we  gain  is  not  that  of  a  great 
Engineer  working  from  without,  as  in  pre-Darwinian  days. 
"Not  is  He  the  Supreme  Judge  of  the  iN'atural  Selection 
theory,  a  sort  of  magnified  Biometrician,  an  olympian 
Karl  Pearson,  measuring  rival  claims  to  adaptation  and 
remorselessly  sentencing  to  death  the  less  successful. 
Rather  we  are  led  to  think  of  a  Divine  Universe  unfolding 
from  within.  The  individual  organism  may  be  thought 
of  as  a  part  of  the  Whole,  or  as  a  semi-independent  energy 
transformer,  closely  interacting  with  the  Environment. 
In  either  case  the  transformation  of  known  energies  ac- 
cording to  partially  known  laws,  gives  us  a  working  ex- 
planation of  organic  history.  We  are  not  concerned  here 
with  the  reason  why  the  Universe  unfolds,  but  merely  with 
the  fact  that  it  does.  Such  self-expression  appears  entirely 
natural,  and  in  harmony  with  what  we  know  of  God  in  His 
physical  manifestation.  Life  does  not  behave  like  a  cosmic 
blunder  or  accident. 

This  idea  of  a  dynamic  Universe  unfolding  from  within, 
is  what  the  Christian  hypothesis  really  calls  for.  The 
process  is  not  the  chance  aggregation  of  material  particles, 
but  the  outworking  of  Divine  forces.  The  simplest  bacil- 
lus shows  an  assemblage  of  atom  groups  which  we  do  not 
find  in  the  entire  inorganic  world.  In  organization  and 
potential  power,  the  advance  from  the  amoeba  to  the  tyrant 
dinosaur,  from  the  dinosaur  to  man,  is  like  the  development 


THE  UNIVEESE  UNFOLDING  61 

of  machinery  from  human  muscle  to  the  modem  dynamo. 
The  Universe  of  which  man  is  in  some  sense  a  part,  reveals 
throughout  geologic  history  a  growth  in  complexity,  in 
variety,  in  the  perfecting  of  form,  in  the  adapting  of  means 
to  ends,  in  the  control  of  physical  energy  for  further  crea- 
tion, before  which  we  all  stand  in  reverent  wonder. 


PAKT  n. 

THE  KELATION  OF  MAN  TO  THE 
UNIVERSE. 


PART  II. 

THE  RELATIOlSr  OF  MAIST  TO  THE 
UNIVERSE. 

VII. 

THE  MAKING  OF  MAN. 

How  are  we  to  think  of  a  dynamic  Universe,  which 
snows  also  the  phenomena  of  evolving  Life  ?  Two  general 
views  are  possible.  There  are  divergent  tendencies  of 
thought,  which  may  be  called  respectively  Monism  and 
Pluralism.  Whether  we  follow  the  first  or  the  second  will 
make  a  good  deal  of  difference  in  the  place  we  give  to 
Man  as  an  individual. 

The  monist  puts  it  in  this  way.  The  Universe  is  an  all- 
inclusive  unity,  the  sum  total  of  what  we  know  as  God, 
Matter,  Life  and  Mind — the  Whole  of  which  we  are  a 
part,  and  to  whose  completeness  we  may  perhaps  con- 
tribute. This  theory  has  taken  many  forms.  In  Religion 
it  appears  as  Pantheism.  God  is  Himself  the  All,  and  my 
life  is  a  current  in  the  great  ocean  of  His  life.  Such  an 
interpretation  is  fascinating  to  many  minds.  It  gives 
logical  symmetry  to  the  apparently  disjointed  facts  of  the 
world.  It  offers  a  kind  of  Nirvana  to  the  distracted,  hard- 
pressed  spirit  of  man.  Reality  is  an  Absolute  Monarch, 
to  whom  we  should  submit.  The  Universe  must  take  the 
final  responsibility  for  evil  and  pain. 

Pluralism  likewise  has  taken  many  forms.  The  con- 
trasting theory  which  I  wish  to  consider  makes  the  present 
Universe  a  social  order.    It  asserts  the  dignity  and  worth 

65 


66  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

of  the  individual  man,  as  lie  faces  the  external  world.  As 
Pascal  said :  "Though  the  Universe  crush  me,  I  am  greater 
than  the  Universe.  For  I  can  know  of  my  defeat,  but  the 
Universe  can  never  know  of  its  victory."  "Under  the 
bludgeonings  of  chance,"  shouts  Henley,  "my  head  is 
bloody,  but  unbowed."  Yet  it  is  not  necessary  to  shake 
one's  fist  at  the  Universe.  If  man  with  his  unconquerable 
soul  is  a  part  of  it,  he  has  a  responsibility  for  its  shaping 
and  its  final  outcome.  He  shares  the  defeats  and  the  vic- 
tories. The  static  unity  of  the  monist  becomes  an  unfold- 
ing social  order,  a  Kepublic  of  conscious  units.  With 
the  external  world,  which  the  Christian  calls  a  manifesta- 
tion of  God,  with  this  vast  dynamic  system  upon  which 
the  individual  is  so  closely  dependent,  man's  relation  is 
not  one  of  subjection  but  of  cooperation.  The  Universe 
has  ceased  to  be  a  despotism. 

Christianity  holds  to  this  latter  theory.  Man  not  only 
communes  with  God  through  ISTature.  'He  cooperates  with 
God  in  ISTature.  With  the  general  truth  of  this  position 
the  Christian  hypothesis  must  stand  or  fall. 

In  this  and  succeeding  chapters,  I  shall  sketch  various 
human  activities  and  functions,  which  suggest  what  we 
might  term  the  democratic  character  of  the  Universe.  Our 
journey  will  be  a  somewhat  long  and  rambling  one;  I 
trust  it  will  not  be  without  interest.  We  cannot  hurry 
through  the  daily  life  of  Man  as  if  we  were  intellectual 
Cook's  tourists.  For  convenience  I  shall  continue  to  call 
the  two  rival  theories  Pluralism  and  Monism.  The  exact 
connection  between  the  external  world  and  God  lies  out- 
side of  this  book,  though  our  'discussion  will  illustrate 
Jesus'  idea  of  God  as  present  in  every  aspect  of  our  daily 
adjustment.^ 

*I  also  leave  undetermined  the  relation  of  the  lower  organisms 
to  the  Universe.  (See  the  opposite  views  of  the  individual  held  by 
T.  H.  Morgan,  Phys.  Basis  of  Heredity,  1919;  Jacques  Loeb,  Organ- 
ism as  a  Whole,  1916;  and  Wm.  E.  Ritter,  Unity  of  the  Orga/nism, 
1919.)     These  show  a  creative  activity  that  is  somewhat  similar 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN  67 

Our  first  evidence  for  the  cooperative  character  of  the 
Universe  appears  in  the  making  of  Man  himself.  In  the 
perpetuation  of  the  race,  we  find  him  sharing  creation  at 
its  highest.  Man's  part  in  this  task  begins  with  procrea- 
tion. The  normal  function  of  men  and  women  is  parent- 
hood. On  the  voluntary  union  of  the  sexes  depends  the 
very  existence  of  the  human  units  which  represent  the 
climax  of  organic  evolution. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  fact  of  sex  is  one  of  the 
dominating  factors  in  human  history.  Taking  its  rise  in 
the  earliest  forms  of  life,  as  an  alternative  to  other  forms 
of  reproduction,  it  soon  becomes  a  normal  differentiation 
of  function.  The  sexual  instincts  evolve  side  by  side  with 
the  changes  in  structure.  Whatever  the  forms  of  court- 
ship or  of  union,  the  fundamental  facts,  when  studied 
under  the  microscope,  are  everywhere  strangely  similar. 
In  Man,  as  in  the  plants  and  animals  that  share  his  world, 
the  sperm  brings  to  the  egg  the  stimulus  to  reproduction. 
Each  contributes  one-half  of  the  factors  which  determine 
the  character  of  the  new  life.  And  at  once,  through  the 
action  of  God's  physico-chemical  forces,  there  begins  in  the 
body  of  the  mother  that  marvellous  development  by  which 
the  single  fertilized  cell  becomes  a  complete  reproduction 
of  the  parents,  able  to  take  its  part  in  the  creation  of  the 
world.  No  act  is  more  sacred,  more  essentially  religious. 
As  Bryan  Hooker  sings,  of  the  fathers  dead  in  the  World 
War: 

For  the  flower  from  the  clod  emerging 
And  the  fire  from  the  cloud  released. 

For  the  wife  that  is  more  than  virgin 
And  the  man  that  is  more  than  beast; 

For  the  spirit  in  strange  communion 
With  earth,  yet  more  than  earth — 

but  very  much  less  developed.  If  the  Universe  has  changed  from 
Monism  to  Pluralism,  as  human  activities  seem  to  show,  we  might 
expect  the  differentiation  to  be  by  gradual  steps. 


68  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

The  mystery  of  union. 

The  miracle  of  birth — 
For  these,  and  what  holier  dreaming 

Our  dust  and  its  deeds  have  meant, 
You  are  the  blood  redeeming — 

You  are  the  Sacrament. 

Jesus'  practical  emphasis  on  the  sacredness  of  marriage 
and  sexual  passion  finds  expression  in  Paul's  words,  that 
the  human  body  is  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  never  to  be 
desecrated  or  defiled.  The  sex  impulse  is  to  be  controlled, 
and  if  necessary  subordinated  and  diverted.  But  it  is  to 
be  used,  not  outlawed.  Biology  has  strengthened  rather 
than  weakened  this  position.  Religion  stands  on  solid 
ground  when  it  considers  every  union  of  sperm  and  egg 
cells  the  creation  of  a  new  life,  sacred  as  all  human  life  is 
sacred,  whose  wilful  destruction  is  murder,  and  when  it 
regards  any  such  union  of  cells  that  does  not  aim  at  repro- 
duction as  a  sin  against  God  the  Creator.  The  act  itself 
has  been  a  prayer  for  the  creation  of  a  new  life.  So  great 
is  the  responsibility  for  this  share  in  the  creative  act, 
that  it  demands  the  wisest  planning,  and  the  freest  and 
fullest  cooperation.  The  prevention  of  conception  follows 
of  necessity,  if  we  recognize  that  voluntary  and  temperate 
intercourse  in  marriage,  the  sharing  of  mutual  passion 
with  one  another  and  with  God,  is  an  act  of  worship,  of 
the  highest  moral  and  spiritual  value. 

The  facts  indicate  that  this  principle  of  sex  relations, 
given  by  Jesus,  is  a  law  written  into  the  very  structure  of 
the  Universe.  Every  instinct  has  a  biological  value,  and 
that  of  sexual  desire  is  linked  with  God  in  the  Divine 
work  of  creation.  The  parity  of  the  sexes  in  monogamous 
marriage,  and  the  restriction  of  intercourse  to  those  who 
enter  this  relation,  is  the  result  of  a  long  series  of  experi- 
ments in  the  history  of  the  race.  Wherever  the  principle 
of  creative  cooperation  has  been  followed,  it  has  meant 
the  moral  elevation  of  manhood,  of  womanhood,  of  child- 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN  69 

hood.  Wherever  it  has  been  disobeyed,  in  loose  sexual 
relations  or  in  prostitution,  the  result  has  been  the  degra- 
dation of  a  vast  multitude  of  women,  the  loss  of  self-control 
and  physical  virility  in  men,  and  a  spread  of  sexual  disease 
that  has  lowered  the  birth-rate  and  left  a  heritage  of  dis- 
eased or  abnormal  offspring.  That  which  is  one  of  the 
primal  religious  impulses  degenerates  into  lust  and  ob- 
scenity. Failure  to  adjust  ourselves  to  the  Universe, 
through  the  proper  functioning  of  the  sex  instinct,  is  sin, 
and  the  wages  of  sin  is  death.  The  removal  of  the  causes 
of  prostitution  and  abnormal  desire,  the  sublimation  of  this 
natural  impulse,  the  opening  of  other  channels  for  its 
expression — this  is  one  of  the  greatest  tasks  which  a  Chris- 
tian civilization  faces.  ^ 

We  hear  much  today  of  the  science  of  Eugenics.  It  will 
be  well  for  us  to  consider  both  its  possibilities  and  its 
limits. 

There  are  laws  of  heredity  in  the  Universe,  just  as  truly 
as  there  are  laws  of  chemical  combination  or  physical  stress. 
What  is  present  in  the  germ  plasm  of  the  parents  will 
reappear  in  their  children.  Conversely,  we  cannot  trans- 
mit anything  that  we  do  not  ourselves  possess.  The  char- 
acters and  abilities  acquired  by  father  and  mother  in  the 
course  of  their  lives,  do  not  modify  the  germ  and  sperm 
cells,  and  so  cannot  be  handed  on.  From  our  present  evi- 
dence, it  seems  probable  that  the  embryo  is  not  definitely 
affected  by  the  environment,  except  through  malnutrition 
or  direct  poisoning.  The  child  will  start  at  birth  about 
where  its  parents  started  at  their  birth. 

*Jane  Addams,  The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the  City  Streets,  1909; 
A.  A.  Brill,  Psychoanalysis,  2nd  ed.,  1914.  For  other  subjects 
treated  in  this  chapter,  see  W.  J.  Robinson,  Birth  Control,  1917 ; 
Paul  Popenoe  and  R.  J.  Johnson,  Applied  Eugenics,  1918,  somewhat 
polemical  in  tone,  but  judicious  and  avoiding  the  errors  of  previous 
works;  E.  G.  Conkljn,  Heredity  and  Environment,  1915;  Franz 
Boas,  Mind  of  Primitive  Man,  1911;  John  B.  Watson,  Behavior, 
1914;  Chas.  W.  Waddle,  Introd.  to  Child  Psychology,  1918;  Wm. 
McDougall,  Social  Psychology,  13th  ed.,  1918;  Maurice  Parmelee^ 
Science  of  Huma/n  Behavior,  1913. 


70  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

Thus  far  it  has  not  been  possible  to  resolve  into  definite 
factors  the  many  complex  influences  which  determine  the 
inheritance  of  physical  and  mental  traits.  We  know  too 
little  to  lay  down  definite  rules  such  as  those  used  by  the 
plant  or  animal  breeder.  All  we  can  say  is  that  the  re- 
sponsibility for  healthy  mating  rests  heavily  upon  the  in- 
dividual and  upon  Society.  Other  things  being  equal,  the 
child  which  at  birth  is  the  most  perfect  physical  animal 
has  a  better  chance  all  through  its  life. 

Studies  of  American  school  children,  and  later  of  sol- 
diers, by  the  Binet-Simon  and  other  tests,  have  shown  a 
very  wide  range  of  intelligence,  grading  all  the  way  from 
idiocy  to  genius,  the  greatest  number  coming  near  the  mid- 
dle of  the  scale.  Counting  100  as  normal,  Terman  found 
2%  of  school  children  testing  128  or  above,  2%  testing 
73  or  below,  and  60%  ranging  from  91  to  110.  Similar 
results  have  appeared  when  tests  were  made  for  special 
lines  of  mental  ability.  Temperament  probably  varies  in 
the  same  way,  though  an  adequate  system  of  classification 
is  not  at  hand.  Proper  allowance  must  be  made  for  other 
contributing  factors.  But  the  differences  appear  to  be  in 
the  main  congenital.  From  a  biological  standpoint,  all 
men  are  not  created  equal. 

Differences  in  temperament  and  mental  ability  are  not 
correlated  with  physical  features,  in  normal  cases.  They 
must  be  attributed  to  independent  series  of  mutations. 
Every  so-called  "race"  is  composed  of  an  almost  unlimited 
number  of  strains.  The  same  climatic  influences  or  geo- 
graphic isolation  which  brought  about  the  average  differ- 
ences in  physical  type,  might  result  in  average  differences 
in  temperament  and  intelligence. 

Doubtless  man's  evolution  is  continuous.  Favorable, 
and  unfavorable,  mutations  and  recombinations  may  occur 
here  and  there,  in  any  group.  Each  person  born  is  a  new 
individual  type.  But  the  net  result  is  the  same.  There 
will  be  no  Supermen.  The  success  of  government  and  mis- 
sion schools  among  the  lowest  savage  tribes,  indicates  that 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN  71 

the  mean  intelligence  of  Homo  Sapiens  has  not  been  raised 
by  any  process  of  natural  selection.^  Intelligence  varies 
the  world  over  because  it  always  has  varied,  and  such  dif- 
ferences are  inherited.  Present  deviations  from  the  mean 
are  not  altered  by  immigration,  but  only  redistributed.  We 
hope  for  more  children  from  the  more  intelligent  indi- 
viduals and  groups,  and  fewer  children  from  the  less  intel- 
ligent. Civilization  needs  leaders,  and  it  needs  the  high- 
est possible  average.  But  any  healthy  strain  has  valuable 
contributions  to  make  to  the  human  capital  of  the  Uni- 
verse. 

Statistical  studies  bear  out  the  statement  that  the  mean 
intelligence  of  the  race  remains  at  about  the  same  level. 
Although  the  mating  of  persons  of  high  or  low  intelligence 
may  raise  or  lower  the  average  for  several  generations,  the 
"drag"  of  previous  ancestry  and  intermarriage  with  other 
grades  tend  to  bring  the  group  back  toward  the  mean. 
In  the  statistical  laws  of  inheritance  worked  out  by  Pear- 
son, the  expected  contribution  of  the  parents  is  given  as 
.6244.  That  of  grandparents  is  .1988,  and  of  great- 
grandparents  .0630.  As  stated  by  East  and  Jones,  "the 
brightest  examples  of  inherent  mental  ability  have  come 
and  will  come  from  chance  mating  in  the  general  popula- 
tion, the  common  people  so-called,  because  of  the  variability 
there  existent.'^  ^  The  task  of  Eugenics  is  to  encourage 
the  reproduction  of  those  members  of  society  who  show 
superior  mental  traits,  and  to  check  the  reproduction  of 
those  whose  mental  power  is  abnormally  low.  To  work  for 
either  of  these  ends  is  aid  in  the  Divine  work  of  creation. 
The  problem  cannot  be  met  merely  by  selective  mating, 
and  the  willingness  of  superior  stocks  to  bear  offspring. 
It  involves  the  whole  range  of  social  questions.  War  en- 
ters into  it,  as  do  commerce  and  taxation.  We  must  also 
pay  attention  to  housing,  health,  the  relation  between  in- 

•To  give  a  single  example,  Porteua'  tests  of  aboriginal  children 
in  Australia  show  an  average  deviation  of  only  five  months  from 
the  standard  for  whites.    PsycJiol.  Review,  24,  32,  1917. 

*  Inbreeding  and  Outhreedingy  1919,  244. 


72  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

comes  and  cost  of  living,  education,  opportunities  for  socilil 
life,  and  the  proper  treatment  of  defectives  and  delin- 
quents. 

But  tlie  making  of  Man  has  only  begun  at  birth.  These 
individuals,  of  many  physical  types,  with  various  tem- 
peraments, with  different  degrees  of  congenital  mental 
capacity,  are  so  much  raw  material  which  Society  is  to 
mold  into  the  finished  product.  The  child  is  born  with  a 
completed  body,  but  a  very  incomplete  brain.  His  nerve- 
cells,  or  neurones,  are  in  place,  with  all  their  latent  poten- 
tialities. Some  of  them  are  fully  developed,  making  pos- 
sible the  instinctive  reflexes  of  the  new-bom  child.  But 
the  majority,  especially  the  neurones  of  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres, are  yet  unfinished.  They  must  extend  their 
branches,  and  develop  their  insulating  sheaths.  The  asso- 
ciation neurones,  which  have  appeared  latest  in  the  his- 
tory of  evolution,  will  be  the  last  to  complete  their  growth. 
Although  this  development  is  largely  carried  out  by  God, 
along  the  lines  laid  down  by  heredity,  the  plasticity  of  the 
child  brain  gives  the  individual  and  those  responsible  for 
his  training  a  chance  for  cooperation  of  the  most  definite 
kind. 

The  fundamental  distinction  between  man  and  his  first 
cousins  among  the  higher  mammals,  like  the  gorilla  and 
chimpanzee,  is  not  in  physical  features,  or  in  the  size  and 
arrangement  of  the  brain.  It  lies  rather  in  what  man  is 
able  to  teach  his  brain  to  do,  by  virtue  of  his  inheriting  a 
well  developed  speech  mechanism.  In  early  infancy,  the 
child  trains  certain  centers  in  his  left  brain,  if  he  is 
right-handed,  or  in  his  right  brain,  if  he  is  left-handed; 
for  the  training  is  done  largely  through  the  use  of  the  hand 
in  feeling  and  gesturing.  By  the  training  of  these  centers, 
he  is  able  to  name  his  mental  recepts  and  achieve  ideas 
and  spoken  words,  as  the  gorilla  cannot.  He  learns  to 
write,  to  play  musical  instruments,  to  operate  elaborate 
machines.  The  gorilla  species,  in  other  respects,  has  prac- 
tically as  good  machinery  in  the  brain  as  the  human 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN  73 

species.  But  being  without  a  speech  mechanism  in  throat 
and  brain,  it  lacks  the  power,  and  always  did  lack  the 
power,  and  always  will,  to  develop  the  rest  of  the  cerebral 
machinery  and  put  it  to  the  fullest  use.  The  normal 
human  baby  possesses  that  power.  He  will  inevitably 
become  a  thinking  being.  He  persists  in  training  his 
hands.  We  could  not  prevent  him  from  talking,  even  if  he 
must  make  a  language  of  his  own. 

This  distinguishing  feature  in  Man,  the  training  of  one 
of  the  hemispheres  of  the  brain,  takes  place  after  birth. 
It  continues  for  about  sixteen  years,  and  to  some  extent 
through  life.  For  each  individual,  the  limits  of  such 
training  are  set  by  heredity.  But  the  training  itself  is  a 
matter  of  environment,  of  the  child's  surroundings  and 
schooling.  Up  to  the  point  where  development  is  possible, 
man  makes  his  own  brain.  He  shapes  his  own  character. 
He  determines  his  own  relations  with  the  Universe.  As 
Dr.  Thompson  has  said:  "While  all  individuals  of  our 
race  are  not  born  with  equally  good  brains,  yet  the  fact 
remains  that  the  special  mental  capacities  for  which  cer- 
tain men  have  become  eminent  were  all  acquired  and  were 
not  congenital."  ^ 

All  education  must  be  self -education.  But  the  guiding 
of  it  is  a  sacred  function,  a  cooperation  with  God  in  the 
greatest  of  all  tasks.  A  pedagogical  revolution  is  slowly 
going  forward,  due  to  the  iafluence  of  Kousseau,  Froebel 
and  Pestalozzi.  Education  is  coming  to  be  a  process  of 
natural  growth,  rather  than  the  acquiring  of  a  certain 
amount  of  information.  It  is  not  "something  to  be  forced 
upon  children  and  youth  from  without,  but  is  the  growth 
of  capacities  with  which  human  beings  are  endowed  at 
birth."  « 

■  Wm.  M.  Thomson,  Bram  cmd  Personality,  1908,  233. 

'John  and  Evelyn  Dewey,  SchooU  of  Tomorrow,  1915,  2.  See 
also  John  Dewey,  Democracy  and  Education,  1916;  E.  L.  Thorn- 
dike,  Educational  Psychol.,  1913;  Frank  N.  Freeman,  How  Children 
Learn,  1917;  E.  P.  Cubberley,  Public  Education  in  the  U.  8.,  1919; 
Alexander  Inglis,  Prm'a  of  Secondary  Eduction,  1918. 


74  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

To  fail  in  developing  the  full  capacity  of  any  human 
child,  of  whatever  race,  is  to  block  the  work  of  creation, 
or  leave  it  only  half  completed.  Terman's  studies  show 
that  individuals  with  an  Intelligence  Quotient  of  70 
may  reach  a  mental  age  of  11,  or  an  equivalent  of  fifth 
grade  work  in  school.  An  I.  Q.  of  80  represents  a  mental 
age  of  12^2?  or  seventh  grade.  "A  large  proportion  of  the 
tasks  in  the  modern  organization  of  industries  can  be  as 
well  performed  by  individuals  of  the  70  or  75  I.  Q. 
class  as  by  those  of  superior  intelligence,  and  with  more 
satisfaction  in  the  performance.  Mentality  of  eleven  years 
is  ample  for  ordinary  kinds  of  unskilled  labor,  and  many 
of  the  semi-skilled  trades  are  within  reach  of  those  who 
test  a  year  or  two  higher.  To  make  the  most  of  this 
grade  of  ability,  however,  it  must  be  trained.  For  chil- 
dren who  test  below  75  or  80  I.  Q.,  genuine  vocational 
training  should  largely  replace  the  usual  curriculum  of 
the  Upper  grammar  grades."  He  instances  M.,  a  Portu- 
guese boy,  leaving  school  at  16,  after  struggling  painfully 
through  the  sixth  grade.  His  mental  age  is  10%,  and 
his  Intelligence  Quotient  72.  He  cannot  be  rated  as  feeble- 
minded. "About  ordinary  affairs  his  judgment  is  depend- 
able, and  he  is  steady,  industrious  and  anxious  to  make 
good.  There  are  probably  many  kinds  of  semi-skilled  work 
in  which  he  could  succeed.  For  none  of  these  has  he 
received  any  preparation.  Aiter  nine  years  in  school,  he 
faces  the  world  with  no  vocational  asset  but  his  God-given 
brawn.  There  are  approximately  a  million  children  like 
M.  in  the  public  schools  of  the  United  States."  "^ 

Vocational  training  has  a  broader  aspect.  All  children, 
of  lower  or  higher  intelligence,  need  guidance  in  their 
choice  of  a  life  work,  and  adequate  preparation  for  it. 
They  must  learn  to  adjust  themselves  to  the  present  indus- 
trial and  democratic  era.  There  is  a  growing  feeling 
among  progressive  educators  that  the  mere  trade  school 
does  not  meet  the  situation.     The  demands  of  industry 

'L.  M.  Terman,  Intelligence  of  School  Children,  1919,  133  /. 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN  76 

and  of  citizenship  cannot  be  met  without  broad  and  uni- 
versal equipment.  ^The  democracy  which  proclaims 
equality  of  opportunity  as  its  ideal  requires  an  education 
in  which  learning  and  social  application,  ideas  and  prac- 
tice, work  and  recognition  of  the  meaning  of  what  is  done, 
are  united  from  the  beginning  and  for  all."  ^ 

In  this  cooperative  task,  the  influence  of  the  home,  of 
the  church,  of  the  play  life,  of  associates  and  surroundings, 
must  rank  with  that  of  the  trained  teacher.  We  are  com- 
ing to  learn  that  the  making  of  man  is  an  extremely  com- 
plex process,  involving  a  constant  interaction  between  hu- 
man instincts  craving  expression,  and  the  social  environ- 
ment which  encourages  or  hinders  such  expression.  Take, 
for  example,  Parker's  analysis  of  the  Western  hobo.  "The 
history  of  the  migratory  workers  shows  that  starting  with 
the  long  hours  and  dreary  winters  of  the  farms  they  ran 
away  from,  or  the  sour-smelling  bunk-house  in  a  coal 
village,  through  their  character-debasing  experience  with 
the  drifting  ^ire  and  fire'  life  in  the  industries,  on  to  the 
vicious  social  and  economic  life  of  the  winter  unemployed, 
their  training  predetermined  but  one  outcome,  and  the  en- 
vironment produced  its  type."  ^  Eepression  of  the  natural 
instincts  of  children  and  adults  is  fraught  with  grave  dan- 
ger to  Society  as  well  as  to  the  subject.  It  leads  either  to 
weakness,  inefficiency  and  moral  debasement;  or  compen- 
sation is  sought  in  some  more  or  less  violent  form  of 
revolt. 

Since  man  became  man,  400,000  years  ago,  the  real 
evolution  of  the  race,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  following 
chapters,  has  been  the  evolution  of  social  equipment:  the 
gathering  of  an  increasing  store  of  ideas  and  experience, 
of  tools,  institutions,  customs,  outlets  for  expression,  which 
are  at  the  service  of  each  child  born  into  the  tribe  or 
nation.    Herein  lies  the  primary  advantage  of  the  civilized 

^Schools  of  Tomorrow,  315.     See  later  p.  205.     For  Vocational 
Guidance:  Meyer  Bloomfield,  Youth,  School  and  Vocation,  1915. 
•Carleton  H.  Parker,  The  Casual  Laborer,  1920,  123. 


76  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

child,  at  its  best,  over  the  savage,  of  the  child  from  a  good 
home  over  the  child  from  the  slum,  or  the  backwoods.  It 
is  bom  into  an  inheritance  larger,  richer,  more  fitted  to 
express  man's  instinctive  desires  and  reactions,  and  des- 
tined to  become  still  better  and  more  general,  as  God's 
partners  in  Creation  rise  up  to  mold  the  conditions  under 
which  children  are  bom,  and  men  and  women  live  their 
lives. 

In  regard  to  many  points  in  this  chapter,  there  may  be 
difference  of  opinion.  But  the  differences  would  affect  the 
distribution  of  the  several  factors  involved,  rather  than  the 
general  situation.  The  making  of  Man  is  not  an  event  but 
a  process.  And  in  that  process  the  human  race  has  a 
definite  and  responsible  share.  At  any  point,  men  are  able 
to  alter  the  creative  work,  to  check  it  or  reverse  it.  Crea- 
tion, instead  of  being  completed  at  a  certain  prehistoric 
date,  is  going  on  before  our  eyes.  The  hundred  million 
years  of  organic  evolution,  which  gave  us  man's  body, 
are  as  nothing  compared  with  the  cooperative  evolution 
in  the  life  of  each  human  child,  which  gives  us  his  mind, 
trained  or  untrained,  stunted  and  warped  and  marred,  or 
developed  and  broadened  and  ennobled. 


vin. 

BUILDING  THE  WORLD  OF  THOUGHT. 

When  I  enter  the  University  Library,  I  have  a  realizing 
sense  of  the  powers  of  the  human  mind.  On  the  shelves 
are  books  and  periodicals  ranging  over  the  whole  field 
of  human  interest.  Each  year  new  knowledge  is  added 
to  the  rapidly  growing  accumulation.  Scientific  reviews 
record  from  month  to  month  the  work  of  thousands  of 
investigators,  in  every  civilized  country. 

Man  has  not  been  content  to  take  the  world  for  granted. 
His  mental  adjustment  to  the  Universe  has  been  of  a 
very  active  kind.  There  is  nothing  to  suggest  the  unfold- 
ing of  a  Universal  Mind,  the  varied  consciousness  of  one 
instantaneous  Knower,  a  mosaic  of  Thought  whose  pat- 
tern is  eternally  complete  in  what  Koyce  terms  "the  unity 
of  the  Absolute  Experience."  The  picture  we  gain  is 
rather  that  of  a  multitude  of  independent  creators,  slowly 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  Universe  in  which  they  are 
placed,  and  building  out  of  it  a  world  of  objects  and  values 
and  laws.  Man  does  not  make  the  Universe,  but  he  makes 
it  known.  ^ 

Let  us  look  more  closely  at  the  nature  of  this  adjust- 
ment. It  begins  in  a  most  practical  fashion.  The  world 
in  which  man  lives  contains  various  forces  and  bodies  with 
which  he  comes  in  contact.     Light  waves,  impinging  on 

*Any  one  wishing  to  follow  further  the  themes  treated  in  this 
chapter  might  consult  with  profit:  W.  B.  Pillsbury,  Fundamentals 
of  Psychology,  1916;  James  R.  Angell,  Psychology,  1904;  Hugo 
Mjiinsterberg,  Psychology,  1914;  C.  S.  Sherrington,  Integrative  Ac- 
tion of  the  Nervous  System,  1911;  Boris  Sidis,  Foundations  of  Nor- 
mal and  Abnormal  Psychol.,  1914;  Joseph  Jastrow,  The  Suhcorir 
scious,  1906;  Kate  Gordon,  Esthetics,  1909. 

77 


78  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

these  bodies,  are  reflected  toward  him.  Through  the  evolu- 
tion of  his  animal  ancestors  in  such  a  world,  the  human 
child  inherits  machinery  for  receiving  and  recording  such 
contacts  with  the  Universe,  and  reacting  to  them  in  definite 
ways.  Innumerable  reactions  teach  him  to  correlate  these 
sense  impressions,  to  compare  them,  to  generalize  them 
into  recepts  and  concepts.  And  by  means  of  these  con- 
•cepts,  which  language  makes  it  possible  to  name,  he  forms 
his  interpretation  of  the  world,  in  terms  of  things  and 
their  qualities.  This  interpretation  is  so  familiar  that  we 
are  likely  to  take  it  for  granted,  regard  it  as  preordained 
and  always  existing.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  man's  own 
creation,  a  mental  mechanism,  a  series  of  intellectual  short- 
cuts, which  enable  him  to  know  the  Universe  and  adapt 
himself  to  it.  The  Universe  supplies  the  raw  material  for 
thought:  light  and  sound  waves,  forces  and  masses,  rela- 
tions and  sequences.  Man  works  up  this  raw  material  into 
objects  and  attributes,  judgments  of  value,  associations, 
inferences.  It  is  a  very  real  cooperation  between  Man 
and  his  Environment.  The  correspondence  of  our  ideas 
with  the  external  world  is  not  a  preestablished  but  an 
achieved  harmony. 

What  a  mighty  creation  is  a  word.  What  magic  power 
it  brings.  To  pick  out  an  object  from  experience,  or  the 
experience  itself,  make  an  abstraction  of  it,  choose  a  cer- 
tain sound  to  be  its  name.  Merely  by  speaking  that 
name,  to  call  up  in  the  minds  of  one's  fellows  a  picture 
of  the  object,  with  all  its  dreaded  or  desired  qualities.  To 
name  a  thing,  to  have  an  idea  of  it,  is  to  detach  it  from 
the  confused  unknown,  to  gain  a  certain  advantage  over  it, 
to  possess  it,  to  make  it  a  stepping-stone  to  other  dis- 
coveries and  possessions.  The  idea  is  man's  own,  having 
no  existence  until  he  formed  it,  with  no  meaning  except 
such  as  he  chooses  to  give.  The  word  was  not,  until, 
by  the  exercise  of  a  god-like  power,  man  spoke  and  it  be- 
gan to  be,  as  his  messenger  and  servant.  And  through 
these  simple  but  serviceable  tools  of  thought,  shared  as  part 


BUILDING  THE  WOELD  OF  THOUGHT       n 

of  the  conunon  stock  of  horde  or  tribe,  and  constantly 
increased  and  perfected  by  new  experiences,  the  savage  is 
able  to  live  his  life,  to  predict  the  future,  to  subdue  the 
earth  to  his  need,  to  develop  customs  and  institutions  and 
sagas  and  myths. 

And  Civilization  is  merely  the  improvement  of  these 
same  mental  tools,  which  the  race  has  been  using  for  some 
400,000  years.  We  still  pick  out  certain  facts  of  experi- 
ence, which  are  revealed  to  us  through  our  God-given 
sense  impressions,  and  call  tiiem  things,  attributing  to 
them  certain  qualities  and  behavior.  We  still  create  new 
names  for  new  experiences.  But  the  rapid  accumulation 
of  knowledge,  recorded  now  in  written  and  printed  speech, 
has  not  only  increased  our  supply  of  tools.  It  has  enabled 
us  to  use  them  more  accurately.  We  have  formed  new 
abstractions,  and  made  wider  generalizations.  We  group 
our  experiences  into  general  laws.  By  means  of  these 
laws,  which  are  as  truly  man's  creation  as  the  first  spoken 
word,  we  are  able  to  make  new  predictions,  to  know  the 
forces  of  the  Universe  and  harness  them  for  our  use,  to 
test  and  correct  our  sense  impressions,  to  construct  physical 
mechanisms  that  open  the  way  to  further  power  and 
achievement,  to  expand  sagas  into  literatures,  and  myths 
into  philosophies.  Man  has  begun  to  know  and  utilize 
the  Universe.  But  it  is  only  a  beginning.  A  hundred 
years  hence  the  books  on  our  library  shelves,  as  a  picture 
of  the  real  world,  will  seem  as  crude  as  the  books  of  a 
century  ago  appear  to  the  scholars  of  today. 

Knowledge  is  a  means  to  an  end,  and  that  end  is  man's 
adjustment  to  the  Universe.  We  must  know  it,  for  we  live 
in  it.  We  must  know  its  physical  forces  before  we  can 
harness  them.  We  must  know  its  moral  forces,  before  we 
can  shape  our  lives  and  our  institutions  aright.  Of  this 
I  shall  speak  at  length  in  the  closing  section  of  our  book. 
With  the  growing  specialization  in  scientific  research  and 
teaching,  there  is  grave  danger  that  we  shall  lose  sight 
of  the  Universe  itself,  of  which  these  subjects  are  but 


80  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

"abstracted  phases  and  elements."  The  aim  of  a  finished 
education,  as  Small  pointed  out  over  twenty  years  ago,  is 
"conscious  conformity  of  individuals  to  the  coherent  cos- 
mic reality  of  which  they  are  parts.  Until  our  pedagogy 
rests  upon  a  more  intelligent  cosmic  foundation,  and  espe- 
cially upon  a  more  complete  synthesis  of  social  philosophy, 
we  can  hardly  expect  curricula  to  correspond  with  the 
essential  conditions  to  which  human  action  must  learn  to 
conform."  ^ 

The  cooperation  between  Man  and  God  in  mental  labor 
has  an  even  more  intimate  phase.  Activity  of  the  brain 
represents  a  definite  transformation  of  energy.  A  stimulus 
is  transmitted  along  the  branches  of  a  neurone,  and  across 
the  gaps  that  separate  it  from  other  neurones.  The  neces- 
sary energy  must  be  supplied  by  the  oxidation  of  carbon 
in  the  nerve  cell  proper.  Active  thought  means  increased 
blood  pressure  and  temperature  on  the  surface  of  the  brain. 
Thus  all  mental  processes  may  be  considered  as  joint 
operations,  between  the  thinker  who  initiates  or  controls 
the  train  of  thought,  and  the  Universe  whose  forces  make 
such  activity  possible. 

Our  mental  life  may  be  passive  as  well  as  active,  in- 
volving no  conscious  effort  and  no  noticeable  increase  in 
blood  pressure.  In  fact,  by  far  the  larger  part  of  it  is  of 
this  character.  Probably  the  neurones  of  the  brain  cortex 
are  in  a  state  of  incessant  activity,  even  during  the  hours 
of  sleep.  They  are  constantly  transforming  energy  and 
transmitting  stimuli.  Just  what  proportion  of  the  result- 
ing thought  product  is  contributed  respectively  by  God 
and  by  man,  we  do  not  know.  It  is  clear  that  man,  in 
his  thought  life,  whether  active  or  passive,  is  intimately 
dependent  on  the  Universe.  But  while  much  of  his  think- 
ing appears  to  be  done  for  him,  in  the  subconscious  opera- 
tions of  the  brain,  the  man  himself,  in  his  conscious  per- 
sonality, makes  a  definite  contribution  to  the  final  result. 

Every  person  engaged  in  literature  or  research  learns 

•Albion  W.  Small,  Am,  J.  of  Sooiol.,  2,  840,  1897. 


BUILDING  THE  WORLD  OF  THOUGHT       81 

to  distinguish  these  two  kinds  of  mental  operations.  Dur- 
ing his  waking  hours,  he  is  conscious  of  having  certain 
experiences,  of  talking  with  other  men,  of  reading  printed 
pages,  of  making  definite  experiments,  of  wrestling  with 
problems  of  thought  or  expression.  But  all  this  time,  be- 
neath the  threshold  of  consciousness,  another  stream  of 
mental  life  is  flowing.  It  is  fed  bj  his  conscious  thinking 
and  experience,  charged  with  images,  ideas,  impressions. 
The  subconscious  life,  while  preserving  these  intact  as 
memories  (or  whatever  lies  at  the  basis  of  memory),  also 
digests  and  develops  them.  And  from  this  second  stream 
of  mental  activity,  as  from  a  subterranean  river,  thoughts 
keep  rising  into  consciousness.  They  may  be  mere  feelings 
and  prejudices.  They  may  be  remembered  scenes  or  words. 
Sometimes  the  resurgence  takes  the  form  of  matured 
ideas  or  new  forms  of  phrasing.  In  my  own  experience,  I 
wrestle  for  days  over  a  problem,  or  leave  a  piece  of  work 
half  finished  and  unsatisfying.  After  retiring  for  the 
night,  or  in  the  morning  when  only  half  awake,  the  prob- 
lem is  solved  for  me,  the  troublesome  paragraph  started 
with  one  or  two  telling  sentences.  The  inspiration  may 
come  in  the  day  time — when  walking  along  the  street, 
listening  to  a  sermon,  busy  with  mechanical  tasks,  work- 
ing in  my  study  on  an  entirely  different  subject.  All  my 
writing,  when  thoughts  flow  freely,  seems  like  the  work 
of  an  amanuensis,  putting  on  paper  the  ideas  that  crowd 
up  from  the  "undermind." 

Probably  all  intuition  and  inspiration,  in  religion  or 
literature,  in  science  or  practical  affairs,  is  of  this  charac- 
ter. Literary  history  furnishes  some  extreme  cases.  Many 
of  my  readers  are  doubtless  familiar  with  the  story  of  Julia 
Ward  Howe's  Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic.  The  visit  to 
the  Virginia  battle-fields  late  in  JsTovember,  1861.  The 
singing  of  "John  Brown's  Body"  on  the  slow  drive  home. 
James  Freeman  Clarke's  suggestion  that  she  write  new 
words  to  that  good  air.  Waking  in  the  gray  dawn  of  the 
following  morning,  the  lines  of  the  Battle  Hymn  formed 


82  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

themselves  in  her  mind.  Fearful  lest  she  should  forget 
them  she  seized  pen  and  paper,  and  scrawled  the  words 
almost  without  seeing  what  she  did.  When  Mrs.  Howe 
rose  at  daylight  and  dressed  herself,  she  had  no  recollection 
of  what  had  passed.  Seeing  some  writing  on  the  tahle 
she  took  it  up,  and  recognized  the  words  of  her  own  poem : 
"Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the 
Lord."  3 

Elliot  has  called  attention  to  Herhert  Spencer's  "extraor- 
dinary power  to  see  the  essential  elements  in  any  hetero- 
geneous mixture  of  events.  He  carved  out  a  principle, 
which  immediately  introduced  order  and  method,  where 
previously  there  had  heen  nothing  but  a  hopeless  jumble. 
.  .  .  His  methods  of  thinking  and  writing  were  wholly 
conformable  with  his  character.  He  no  more  thought  of 
sitting  down  to  think  than  he  thought  of  sitting  down 
to  read.  In  the  course  of  promiscuous  idling  he  would 
come  across  some  significant  fact  or  idea,  which  very 
likely  he  would  temporarily  forget.  But  later  on  it  would 
be  liable  to  turn  up  in  his  mind  again,  well  on  the  way  to 
being  a  full-fledged  principle.  And  once  the  principle  got 
rooted,  relevant  facts  would  come  flying  from  all  quar- 
ters, until  on  all  that  subject  quite  a  considerable  amount 
of  knowledge  had  been  more  or  less  unintentionally  accu- 
mulated. These  processes  apparently  occurred  with  spe- 
cial strength  while  taking  walks :  on  these  occasions  he  was 
often  absent-minded  and  noticed  little  of  what  was  going 
on  about  him.  He  had  of  course  immense  natural  con; 
centration,  but  it  was  never  brought  on  by  an  effort  of 
will.  His  method  of  writing  was  of  the  same  kind.  The 
written  matter  flowed  naturally  from  him,  without  con- 
scious effort,  and  it  was  very  little  revised  after  being 
written.     Unlike  John  Stuart  Mill,  who  wrote  out  his 

*  Bookman,  32,  306,  1910.  Francis  Colton's  version,  also  from 
Mrs.  Howe  herself,  adds  some  interesting  particulars;  Current  Lit., 
49,  677,  1910. 


BUILDINa  THE  WORLD  OF  THOUGHT       83 

Logic  many  times  before  he  was  satisfied  with  it,  Spencer 
never  re-wrote."  ^ 

Mill's  method  of  work  is  far  more  common.  I  have 
cited  these  exaggerated  cases,  because  they  bring  out  a 
process  that  is  going  on  to  some  extent  in  all  mental 
activity.  The  success  of  the  thinker  depends  on  his  main- 
taining right  relations  between  the  conscious  and  the  sub- 
conscious. To  neglect  or  starve  the  subconscious  leads  to 
mental  sterility.  At  the  other  extreme,  the  failure  to 
control  one's  intuitions  means  weak  or  illogical  generaliza- 
tion, somewhat  parallel  with  the  unchecked  freedom  of  the 
subconscious  in  our  dreams. 

In  successful  thinking,  the  conscious  personality  does 
three  principal  things.  In  the  first  place  it  feeds  the  sub- 
conscious, by  wide  observation  or  reading.  Mrs.  Howe's 
poem  grew  out  of  long  study  of  the  best  literary  forms,  and 
the  brooding  of  a  great  personality  over  the  crisis  of  her 
nation.  Spencer's  general  laws  came  from  a  mind  packed 
with  miscellaneous  information.  Inspiration  on  a  prob- 
lem comes  only  after  a  period  of  hard  study  on  that  prob- 
lem. Secondly,  subconscious  operations,  to  be  fruitful, 
require  the  constant  practice  of  similar  conscious  opera- 
tions. The  Battle  Hymn  resulted  from  the  writing  of 
many  previous  poems.  Spencer's  particular  line  of  work 
had  become  an  inveterate  habit,  which  enlarged  our  knowl- 
edge in  various  fields.  The  third  function  of  conscious- 
ness is  definite  control.  ITew  ideas  are  likely  to  spring  up 
capriciously  and  without  effort.  To  utilize  an  idea,  how- 
ever, to  develop  and  phrase  it  properly,  ordinarily  re- 
quires the  focussing  of  attention  on  that  idea  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  everything  else.  Long  practice  makes  it  possible 
even  to  regulate  the  flow  of  ideas,  so  that  the  subcon- 
scious may  be  trained  to  work  for  us  along  one  consciously 
chosen  line.  Mental  enrichment,  practice  and  concen- 
tration are  the  conditions  of  good  thinking,  and  the  at- 

*Hugh  S.  R.  Elliot,  Herhert  Spenoer,  1917,  62. 


84  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

taininent  of  these  three  things  should  be  the  goal  of  all 
education.  Whether  subconscious  ideas  are  at  times  in- 
spired directly  by  the  God  who  is  back  of  all  the  opera- 
tions of  the  Universe,  it  is  impossible  to  prove  or  disprove. 
The  religious  attitude  of  calmness  and  confidence,  however, 
is  conducive  to  the  best  thinking. 

The  constructive  work  of  the  human  mind  is  shown 
most  clearly  in  the  field  of  Art.  All  aesthetic  pleasure  has 
a  physical  basis.  Light  waves  of  different  lengths  give 
rise  to  the  sensations  of  color.  And  colors  and  their  com- 
binations have  a  varying  emotional  accompaniment.  The 
pleasurable  sensations  of  tone  and  overtone  are  due  to  the 
primary  and  secondary  vibrations  produced  in  the  air  by  a 
sonorous  body.  A  combination  of  tones  is  more  enjoyable 
when  the  vibrations  are  in  a  certain  ratio,  as  in  the  1  to 
2  of  the  octave,  or  the  3  to  4  of  the  fourth.  The  pleasure 
in  bodily  or  vocal  rhythm  is  largely  muscular  in  origin. 
It  is  probable  that  line  drawing  and  symmetrical  arrange- 
ment bring  a  similar  bodily  reaction,  what  Grosse  calls 
"sympathetic  reproduction."  As  man  lived  his  life,  and 
found  his  varied  activities  bringing  him  these  pleasurable 
sensations,  he  came  to  reproduce  them  for  their  own  sake. 
He  developed  art,  in  order  to  objectify  his  emotion  and 
express  it  to  his  fellows.^  We  see  the  beginning  of  the 
process  in  the  rhythm  of  savage  dances  and  songs.  Through 
the  manipulation  of  line  and  color,  men  were  able  to  make 
pictures,  as  on  the  cave  walls  of  prehistoric  France,  that 
would  inspire  definite  suggestions  and  emotions.  Still 
later  came  the  use  of  simple  tone  combinations  in  crude 
musical  instruments,  recitative,  and  choral  singing. 

All  art  is  social  in  origin  and  in  expression.  Histor- 
ically man  does  not  find  beauty  in  the  sounds  or  objects 
of  the  world  around  him.  He  makes  satisfying  tones  or 
pictures,  and  later  begins  to  apply  his  idea  of  beauty  to 
!N'ature  itself.  The  beauty  is  not,  as  with  Hegel,  an  expres- 
sion of  the  Absolute  Thought  in  the  concrete  facts  of  the 

•Y.  Hirn,  Origins  of  Art,  1900,  301. 


BUILDING  THE  WORLD  OF  THOUGHT       85 

world.  It  is  rather  a  mental  synthesis  by  the  individual 
man,  the  product  of  his  creative  imagination.  What  we 
shall  call  beautiful  is  a  social  standard,  determined  by  the 
taste  of  the  group  to  which  we  belong.^  The  modem  artist 
uses  the  same  physical  media  as  the  savage,  and  for  the 
same  end.  He  seeks  to  give  his  artistic  feelings  an  outlet, 
in  a  form  that  may  be  shared  by  others.  He  expresses 
emotion  in  the  art  language,  and  by  the  alphabet  of  signs, 
which  the  world  has  learned  to  read.  With  the  growth 
of  knowledge  and  taste,  the  improvements  in  mechanism 
and  technique,  man's  creative  power  has  attained  a  new 
perfection  of  harmony  in  tone  or  color  or  form,  a  fulness  of 
emotional  expression. 

The  artist  differs  from  the  average  man  in  degree  rather 
than  in  kind.  We  see  a  strong  emotional  temperament, 
and  an  unusual  power  of  imagination,  whether  auditory, 
visual,  or  motor.  Acquaintance  with  standard  forms 
strengthens  this  primary  endowment.  Practice  brings  the 
artist  his  power  of  concentration.  His  mind  is  constantly 
creating,  even  when  the  creation  is  subconscious.  Mozart's 
trained  faculty  enabled  him  to  think  in  terms  of  musical 
compositions.  The  quintette  in  the  Magic  Flute  is  said 
to  have  come  to  him  while  playing  a  game  of  billiards. 
Croce  tells  us  how  "Leonardo  shocked  the  prior  of  the  con- 
vent delle  Grazie  by  standing  for  days  together  opposite 
the  ^Last  Supper'  without  touching  it  with  his  brush.  He 
remarked  of  this  attitude  ^that  men  of  the  most  lofty  genius, 
when  they  are  doing  the  least  work,  are  then  the  most 
active,  seeking  invention  with  their  minds.'  The  painter 
is  a  painter,  because  he  sees  what  others  only  feel  or  catch 
a  glimpse  of,  but  do  not  see."  "^  But  all  appreciation  of 
music  or  painting  is  essentially  creative.  The  power  vested 
in  trained  minds  makes  it  possible  for  them  to  reproduce 
the  synthesis  first  given  by  the  artistic  genius. 

•James  H.  Tufts,  Genesis  of  Aesthetic  Categories,  Univ.  of  Chi- 
cago Pub's,  1903,  vol.  3. 

'B.  Croce,  Theory  of  Aesthetic,  Eng.  trans.,  1909,  16. 


86  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

I  have  tried  in  this  and  the  preceding  chapter  to  steer  a 
safe  course  between  the  various  psychological  schools.  Our 
real  interest  has  been  in  the  product  of  thought,  rather 
than  the  process.  Whatever  particular  theories  we  may 
hold  as  to  the  conscious  and  the  subconscious  mental  life, 
two  facts  stand  out  in  clear  relief.  The  first  is  contingency. 
The  second  is  the  power  of  independent  creation.  The 
philosopher  in  his  study,  the  business  man  in  his  office,  the 
workman  at  his  lathe,  the  surgeon  at  the  operating  table, 
the  artist,  the  musician — all  are  absolutely  dependent  on 
God.  Apart  from  the  Universe  itself,  without  the  energy 
exchanges  in  the  brain  cells,  the  nerve  reactions,  and  per- 
haps the  direct  inspiration,  their  work  would  be  impossible. 
But  their  work  does  change  the  result.  Men  are  able  to 
control  their  mental  resources.  By  making  and  utilizing 
ideas  and  laws,  they  add  something  that  was  not  on  the 
earth  before.  They  make  man's  adjustment  more  com- 
plete, his  life  more  satisfying.  A  writer  in  Science 
Progress  has  branded  as  intellectual  criminals  "those  who 
remain  ignorant  when  they  should  learn,  thoughtless  when 
they  should  think,  and  sunk  in  superstitions  when  they 
should  reason."  ^  If  Julia  Ward  Howe  and  Herbert  Spen- 
cer and  Da  Vinci  and  Mozart  had  not  lived,  if  they  had 
developed  lesser  personalities,  or  failed  to  train  their 
powers  and  use  them  to  the  full,  the  modem  world  would 
lose  a  heritage  of  patriotism  and  truth  and  beauty. 
•11,  136,  1916. 


IX. 

COMPLETING  THE  PHYSICAI.  WORLD. 

To  a  certain  extent  the  physical  Universe  is  complete. 
Its  laws  do  not  change.  The  action  of  forces  is  definite, 
uniform,  predictable.  Two  separated  bodies  always  tend 
to  gravitate  together.  Everywhere  light  travels  in  a 
vacuum  a  certain  number  of  miles  a  second.  The  same 
number  of  electrons,  grouped  in  the  same  way  about  a 
nucleus  of  positive  electricity,  show  the  properties  of  an 
atom  of  oxygen.  Why  natural  forces  should  act  in  this 
way  and  not  otherwise,  we  do  not  know.  "I  accept  the 
Universe,"  said  Margaret  Fuller.    There  is  no  alternative. 

The  world  of  ^N'ature  being  arranged  in  a  particular  way, 
our  first  duty  is  one  of  adaptation.  Whether  the  present 
order  is  due  to  design,  or  whether  organisms  are  fitted  to 
the  earth  because  they  have  developed  in  response  to  its 
conditions,  this  planet  is  a  good  place  for  man  to  live.  He 
needs  only  to  know  his  environment  and  adjust  himself  to 
it  And  such  honest,  faithful,  courageous  adjustment  is  a 
cooperation  of  man  with  the  Universe. 

The  uniformity  of  action  in  this  sphere  is  of  immense 
advantaga  In  fact,  our  life  would  be  impossible  on  any 
other  basis.  How  long  could  we  exist  in  a  world  of  dis- 
order, where  the  succession  of  the  seasons  could  not  be  pre- 
dicted, where  combustion  was  really  spontaneous  instead  of 
following  fixed  laws,  where  sometimes  chemical  elements 
would  combine,  and  at  other  times,  under  exactly  the  same 
conditions,  combination  failed  ?  Such  a  world  might  suit 
the  savage,  but  for  civilized  man  it  would  be  a  bad  dream ; 
it  could  not  be  a  reality. 

87 


88  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

As  Koosevelt  has  said,  the  forces  of  ITature  do  not 
threaten ;  they  operate.  It  is  no  ground  for  complaint  that 
fire  bums  and  cold  freezes.  Those  who  live  in  an  earth- 
quake belt,  must  expect  occasional  earthquakes.  Those 
who  live  where  cyclones  occur,  accept  the  risk  of  having 
property  and  perhaps  life  destroyed  by  this  means.  If  a 
man  builds  his  home  at  the  foot  of  a  live  volcano,  and  the 
volcano  erupts  and  buries  the  man  and  his  family  under  a 
mass  of  lava,  the  man  is  responsible,  not  the  Universe.  In 
any  part  of  the  world,  the  rainfall  or  snowfall,  the  alterna- 
tions of  heat  or  cold,  while  varying  from  year  to  year, 
vary  only  within  definite  limits.  Those  who  do  not  like 
that  average  rainfall  or  that  temperature  range,  are  free 
to  move  elsewhere.  We  witness  many  such  hegiras,  espe- 
cially among  the  well-to-do.  But  in  history  the  average 
family,  instead  of  fleeing  from  conditions,  has  adapted  it- 
self to  them.  Through  the  use  of  fire  and  clothing,  pre- 
historic man  was  able  to  leave  the  tropics  and  follow  the 
receding  glaciers,  like  the  animals  that  he  hunted.  Emi- 
gration, after  filling  the  more,  fertile  areas  of  the  tem- 
perate zone,  has  swept  on  into  less  favored  regions.  Men 
have  learned  to  wrest  a  living  from  apparently  barren  soil, 
and  even  to  irrigate  the  desert.  Famine  and  disaster  have 
taken  an  awful  toll.  But  the  conquest  of  the  earth  through 
adaptation,  has  trained  the  race  in  courage,  in  endurance, 
in  resourcefulness,  in  thrift.  I  have  seen  this  process  at 
first  hand,  both  among  the  'New  England  hills  and  on  one 
of  the  last  timber  frontiers  of  the  West.  The  virility  of 
the  American  is  still  the  virility  of  the  pioneer  and  his 
descendants.  The  strongest  of  our  immigrants  are  those 
who  in  the  Old  World  wrestled  with  I^ature  as  Jacob 
wrestled  with  God  for  His  blessing.  That  Man  has  suc- 
ceeded in  his  adjustment  to  the  Universe,  is  shown  by  the 
vastness  of  the  earth's  present  population,  and  its  spread 
from  the  Equator  to  the  Arctic  circles. 

But  Man  has  not  merely  adapted  himself  to  the  earth  as 
he  finds  it    His  mental  equipment  has  enabled  him  to  de- 


COMPLETING  THE  PHYSICAL  WORLD         89 

velop  and  complete  the  earth.  He  has  shared  the  Divine 
task  of  physical  creation.  The  first  tools  and  weapons  were 
levers  with  which  to  move  the  world,  and  provide  a  richer 
and  more  dependable  livelihood.  The  economic  evolution 
of  primitive  man  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating  stories 
in  the  history  of  the  race.  Invention  and  accumulation 
make  for  the  advance  of  certain  tribes,  only  to  be  wiped 
out  again  by  disease  or  war.  After  many  thousand  years,  a 
definite  advance  is  registered  in  the  domestication  of  the 
cow  and  the  sheep,  the  development  of  agriculture,  such 
arts  as  pottery  and  weaving.  Weapons  and  tools  are  im- 
proved. Mines  and  factories  are  opened,  for  working  flint 
and  other  valued  articles.  Houses  become  more  elaborate. 
Such  engineering  feats  are  attempted  as  the  circle  of  Stone- 
henge.  As  population  grows  denser,  Man^s  creative  adjust- 
ment to  the  physical  world,  always  social  in  its  character, 
becomes  more  highly  organized.  Bronze  implements  are 
introduced,  to  a  civilization  already  well  under  way.  Min- 
ing and  manufacturing  bring  specialization ;  men  begin  to 
follow  distinct  trades.  Commerce  increases.  Cities  spring 
up.  Then  iron,  and  steel ;  the  rest  of  the  story  is  recorded 
history. 

Men  find  themselves  on  an  island,  separated  from  the 
mainland  by  broad  rivers.  They  learn  to  cross  these  by 
canoes,  by  ferry  boats.  Then  they  throw  bridges  over 
them;  they  tunnel  beneath  their  surface.  They  cross 
oceans  in  ships,  driven  first  by  wind  power  and  later  by 
steam.  Trails  give  place  to  roads,  and  these  to  cemented 
highways.  Men  lay  rails  across  a  continent  for  steam  and 
electric  traffic,  filling  valleys  and  boring  through  moun- 
tains. They  flash  messages  around  the  world  by  wires, 
and  even  without  wires.  They  learn  to  navigate  under  the 
water  and  through  the  air.  They  build  structures  of  many 
stories,  to  which  they  are  lifted  swiftly  against  the  force 
of  gravity.  They  harness  the  energy  stored  in  water- 
falls and  coal,  in  molecules  and  electrons,  and  use  it  to 
heat  and  light  their  houses  and  turn  the  wheels  in  their 


90  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

factories.  Whatever  articles  are  needed  to  supply  their 
wants,  tools  are  ready,  and  tools  to  make  tools.  What  hath 
Man  wrought,  in  this  last  hundred  years.  Human  achieve- 
ment in  the  completion  of  the  physical  world,  is  an  epic, 
far  grander  and  worthier  than  the  deeds  of  Homeric  heroes 
or  mediaeval  knights.  And  the  work  of  creation  goes  for- 
ward, at  an  ever  accelerating  rate. 

Man  has  succeeded,  not  in  spite  of  IN'ature,  but  because 
of  ISTature.  The  forces  of  the  physical  world  were  on  his 
side.  They  have  been  friendly,  not  hostile.  Man  has  been 
able  to  work  with  the  Universe,  because  the  Universe  ever 
was  working  with  man.  The  material  and  power  are  sup- 
plied him ;  what  he  contributes  is  their  knowledge  and  con- 
trol. Through  the  oxidation  of  wood  or  coal,  for  example, 
people  develop  heat  for  their  comfort  or  convenience.  The 
laws  of  Physics  and  Chemistry  are  not  broken.  The 
equations  of  energy  are  unaltered.  Man  brings  together 
forces  and  force-centers  that  existed  previously.  But  he 
brings  them  together  in  new  arrangements,  and  for  the 
accomplishment  of  new  ends. 

Every  workman  is  a  creator,  helping  to  direct  Divine 
forces,  working  with  God  upon  Divine  materials.  The 
miner,  digging  coal  or  iron,  is  following  a  holy  calling. 
Every  stroke  of  his  pick  is  an  act  of  unconscious  com- 
munion with  the  Universe.  His  task  is  sacred,  it  is  part 
of  the  social  order.  The  comfort,  the  very  life  of  God's 
children,  depends  on  the  product  of  his  labor.  To  shirk 
is  to  prove  traitor  to  man  and  to  God.  To  do  one's  best 
is  to  hear,  if  one  will,  the  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant."  So  with  the  laborer  in  the  blast  furnace,  turn- 
ing out  steel  for  human  use.  The  mechanic,  making  what 
God  wants  made.  The  worker  in  the  building  trades,  help- 
ing to  house  man  and  his  varied  industries.  The  ship- 
builder, the  boilermaker,  doing  their  part  in  the  organiza- 
tion which  make  human  commerce  possible.  The  engineer 
or  the  seaman,  making  commerce  actual.  The  farmer, 
feeding  the  world,  of  whom  our  next  chapter  will  have 


COMPLETING  THE  PHYSICAL  WOELD        91 

more  to  tell.  The  miller,  putting  the  farmer's  product  into 
available  form.  The  tradesman  and  his  varied  helpers,  dis- 
tributing the  goods  that  people  need.  The  housewife,  pre- 
paring what  her  home  should  have  of  food  and  cleanliness 
and  comfort.  There  are  no  secular  callings.  Steam  and 
electricity  are  holy,  and  boiler  plates  and  bolts  of  cloth  and 
shoes  and  sacks  of  flour  and  dressed  meats  and  dishes  and 
laundered  clothes.  To  come  in  contact  with  the  objects  and 
forces  of  the  world  of  every  day,  is  to  come  in  contact  with 
God  in  His  incessant  activity.  The  place  whereon  we 
stand,  in  factory  or  store  or  kitchen,  is  holy  ground. 

From  a  feudal  aristocracy  we  have  inherited  the  idea  of 
a  certain  stigma  attaching  to  hand  labor.  Such  an  attitude 
is  virtual  atheism.  In  itself  hand  labor  is  not  degrading 
but  ennobling.  It  should  be  practiced  in  our  leisure  hours 
and  taught  to  our  children.  The  mere  contact  with  physi- 
cal materials  brings  a  satisfaction  and  a  peace  which  are 
in  the  truest  sense  religious.  Athletic  sports  are  of  the 
greatest  importance,  from  the  standpoint  of  health  and  rec- 
reation. But  in  the  education  of  a  people,  sport  cannot 
take  the  place  of  honest  work.  There  can  be  no  real  democ- 
racy without  a  general  participation  in  physical  labor,  as 
something  honorable  and  intrinsically  rewarding.  Bul- 
garia, under  Premier  Stamboliisky,  has  introduced  the 
plan  of  drafting  young  men,  when  they  reach  the  age  of 
conscription,  for  a  period  of  education  and  service  as 
laborers  rather  than  soldiers. 

William  Morris  defined  real  art  as  the  expression  by 
man  of  his  pleasure  in  labor.  He  might  have  said  the 
same  of  true  religion.  In  useful  work  well  done  are  all 
the  elements  of  communion  and  worship  and  service.  Cre- 
ative tasks,  when  seen  in  a  larger  perspective,  bring  a  cer- 
tain self-forgetfulness.  We  have  an  example  of  this  in 
the  almost  superhuman  effort  that  can  be  made  under  stress 
of  some  great  cause,  as  in  making  munitions  or  digging 
trenches.  Absorption  in  some  piece  of  creative  work  may 
bring  the  same  oblivion  to  time  and  weariness  and  bodily 


92  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

need.  Sometliing  of  the  same  attitude  is  possible  in  normal 
labor.  Outside  of  muscular  fatigue,  what  tires  us  is  not 
the  work  we  are  doing,  but  tbe  work  we  are  not  doing. 
Our  mind  is  constantly  chafing  to  be  doing  something  else. 
On  the  other  hand,  work  that  is  interesting  is  seldom  tir- 
ing. In  this  case  we  are  truly  cooperating  with  God.  Our 
mind  is  working  in  harmony  with  the  Divine  processes 
that  go  on  in  brain,  nerve  and  muscle  cells. 

That  religion  in  its  broadest  sense  will  ever  become  a 
general  and  sufficient  motive  for  labor,  is  open  to  question. 
The  chief  compulsion  has  been  and  will  continue  to  be 
economic  necessity.  But  the  sense  of  cooperation  with  the 
Universe  for  social  ends  may  be  made  a  supplementary 
motive,  dignifying  mechanical  tasks,  giving  a  new  sacred- 
ness  to  materials,  glorifying  routine  through  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  end  to  be  attained,  developing  the  satisfaction 
of  craftsmanship. 

To  release  this  powerful  supplementary  motive  in  me- 
dianical  labor,  many  things  are  necessary.  Hours  of  labor 
must  be  reduced  below  the  point  of  physical  exhaustion, 
and  the  fatigue  due  to  monotony  or  nervous  strain  relieved 
by  change  of  work  or  periods  of  rest.  Proper  provision 
must  be  made  for  lighting,  ventilation,  safety  and  comfort. 
The  return  in  wages  must  not  only  provide  a  decent  living, 
but  be  fairly  representative  of  the  worker's  share  in  pro- 
duction. There  must  be  security  of  tenure;  the  worker 
cannot  be  haunted  by  the  fear  of  losing  his  job,  or  of  be- 
coming dependent  in  old  age.  Some  means  must  be  de- 
vised for  giving  an  intelligent  interest  in  the  processes 
and  management  of  the  plant.  Home  conditions  and  the 
opportunity  for  wholesome  recreation  are  of  almost  equal 
importance.  And  the  worker  must  have  the  skill,  the  con- 
trol over  his  own  powers  and  over  natural  forces,  the  use 
of  the  best  labor-saving  machinery  available,  and  the  eco- 
nomical placing  of  materials  and  tools,  which  will  make 
for  the  most  efficient  production.  On  no  other  terms  can 
the  workman  have  the  consciousness  of  being  a  creator 


COMPLETING  THE  PHYSICAL  WOELD         93 

rather  than  a  drudge.  Some  of  these  conditions  society  at 
large  is  securing,  through  legislative  enactment.  Still 
more  powerful  is  the  recognition  by  the  more  progressive 
plants  of  the  human  factor  in  industry.-^  Booker  Washing- 
ton, in  one  of  his  books,  pleads  for  the  industrial  educa- 
tion which  will  "teach  the  Wegro  how  not  to  drudge  in  his 
work."  He  contrasts  "the  S'egro  in  the  South  toiling 
through  a  field  of  oats  with  an  old-fashioned  reaper,  vdth 
the  white  man  on  a  modem  farm  in  the  West,  sitting  upon 
a  modern  Taarvester,'  behind  two  spirited  horses,  with  an 
umbrella  over  him,  using  a  machine  that  cuts  and  binds 
the  oats  at  the  same  time, — doing  four  times  as  much  work 
as  the  black  man  with  one-half  the  labor."  ^ 

Under  any  approach  to  ideal  conditions,  physical  labor, 
like  virtue,  is  its  own  reward.  It  brings  returns  which 
cannot  be  reckoned  in  dollars.  "The  real  wages  of  life," 
says  Atkins,  "are  in  the  strength  which  attends  happy 
toil,  in  the  comradeship  born  of  a  common  endeavor  for 
great  ends — there  is  no  finer  friendship  than  the  friend- 
ship of  those  who  work  together — in  the  sense  of 
usefulness  which  attends  all  service  and  in  the  joy  of 
creation  which  God  shares  with  all  good  workmen. 
We  are  paid  for  our  work  in  the  happiness  and  well- 
being  of  others,  in  wholesome  weariness  which  makes  rest 
a  blessing,  in  the  hunger  which  gives  a  flavor  to  bread  and 
the  thirst  which  makes  a  cup  of  cold  water  the  very  gift 
of  God.  Discipline  and  skill,  patience  and  power  are  coin 
struck  from  a  mint  whose  gold  is  never  tarnished — these 
also  are  the  wages  of  toil,  and  beyond  all  these  is  charac- 
ter— the  continuation  and  revelation  of  the  great  reward 
of  labor  in  personality  itself."  ^ 

The  relations  between  Man  and  the  Universe  must  be 

*This  subject  will  be  taken  up  more  fully  in  Chapters  18  and  19. 
See  Frederick  S.  Lee,  The  Human  Machine  and  Industrial  Ef- 
ficiency, 1918;  Josephine  Goldmark,  Fatigue  and  Efficiency,  1912; 
Frank  B.  and  Lillian  M.  Gilbreth,  Fatigue  Study,  2nd  ed.,  1919. 

^Future  of  the  Am.  Negro,  1899,  62. 

•G.  G.  Atkins,  Congregationaliat,  Dec.  25,  1919. 


94  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

learned,  not  through  an  abstract  discussion  of  the  nature 
of  human  consciousness,  or  of  freedom  versus  determinism, 
but  through  a  study  of  the  difference  which  the  individual 
man  is  able  to  make  in  the  net  result.  That  he  is  not  a 
mere  cog  in  the  cosmic  machine  is  shown  by  the  reverse 
fact,  that  man  may  refuse  to  cooperate  in  the  work  of  cre- 
ation, or  even  destroy  that  which  has  been  created  by  others. 
He  may  set  fire  to  a  building,  or  dynamite  a  printing  of- 
fice or  a  mine.  He  may  limit  production  by  unscientific  or 
inhuman  management,  or  by  sabotage  or  a  policy  of  "ca* 
canny."  He  may  live  in  idleness  on  the  productive  work  of 
others.  He  may  hold  land  or  water-power  or  mineral 
deposits  undeveloped,  in  order  to  secure  a  larger  unearned 
increment.  He  may  plunge  the  world  in  a  war  that  wastes 
more  life  and  property  than  can  be  replaced  in  a  genera- 
tion. For  such  antics  the  theory  of  the  Absolute  offers 
no  explanation.  But  both  creation  and  destruction  fit  into 
the  idea  of  a  Universe  which,  since  the  emergence  of  the 
human  species,  has  become  a  Pluralism  rather  than  a 
Monism,  a  Democracy  rather  than  an  Absolute  Monarchy. 


DEVELOPING  THE  FOOD  SUPPLY. 

What  Man  has  done  to  perfect  the  organic  world,  will 
be  seen  if  we  trace  the  pedigree  of  some  of  the  commonest 
articles  on  our  table.  I  do  not  intend  in  this  chapter  to 
give  practical  directions  for  farming,  but  merely  to  review 
some  examples  of  human  creation  and  control  which  are 
no  less  remarkable  because  the  end-products  are  so  fa- 
miliar. 

We  may  begin  with  the  meat  and  dairy  products.  Man's 
domestication  of  wild  cattle  in  I^eolithic  times  did  much 
to  change  the  course  of  social  evolution.  Wealth  came  to 
be  '^pecuniary,"  as  with  the  early  Latin,  derived  from 
pecus,  cattle.  By  3000  B.  C.  the  Egyptians  had  not  only 
developed  a  hornless  from  a  horned  breed,  but  had  achieved 
a  selective  milk  type.^ 

If  it  is  the  beefsteak  we  are  considering,  the  story  is 
probably  that  of  the  Shorthorn  breed.  It  goes  back  to 
the  valley  of  the  Tees,  in  the  English  county  of  Durham, 
and  the  September  day,  in  the  year  1786,  when  Charles 
Colling  of  Ketton  Hall  made  his  historic  visit  to  the  home 
of  his  friend  Maynard  of  Eryholme.  As  he  and  his  wife 
rode  up,  their  attention  was  at  once  attracted  by  a  hand- 
some roan  cow  which  Miss  Maynard  was  milking.  Be- 
fore the  visit  was  over,  this  animal,  a  fine  representative 
of  the  old  Teesdale  stock,  was  purchased  for  28  guineas 
and  renamed  Lady  Maynard,  or,  as  an  admiring  country- 
side came  to  call  her,  "the  beautiful  Lady  Maynard."  She 
was  destined  to  become  the  ancestress  of  the  improved 

*  Jas.  O.  Breasted,  8ci.  Monthly,  9,  422,  1919. 

95 


96  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

Shorthorns.  Still  more  important  was  the  blood  of  a  bull, 
bought  by  Charles  Colling  for  10  guineas,  and  sold  after 
two  years  for  8  on  account  of  his  small  size.  He  had  no 
name  until  his  progeny  began  to  attract  attention,  when  he 
was  named  Hubback,  from  a  later  owner.  This  bull  of 
posthumous  fame  showed  symmetry  and  even  distribution 
of  flesh,  and  a  remarkably  quick  response  to  feeding.  The 
union  of  these  two  strains,  under  the  method  of  close  in- 
breeding which  Colling  had  learned  from  the  great  pioneer, 
Kobert  Bakewell  of  Dishley,  produced  the  beef  type  he 
was  seeking.  Such  bulls  as  Favorite,  his  grandson  Comet, 
which  sold  afterward  for  $5000,  and  "the  Durham  Ox," 
which  reached  a  weight  of  nearly  3400  pounds,  made  the 
improved  breed  famous  throughout  England.  Still  fur- 
ther developed  by  his  brother  Eobert  Colling,  and  by 
Thomas  Booth  and  Thomas  Bates,  the  Shorthorns  or  Dur- 
hams  began  to  make  their  way  to  America,  where  they 
were  to  prove  the  favorite  dual  purpose  breed.  The  fas- 
cinating and  at  times  sensational  story  should  be  read  in 
the  pages  of  Mr.  Alvin  Sanders.^ 

Man  has  produced  equally  striking  results  with  dairy 
cattle.  In  1910  the  average  annual  production  of  the 
American  dairy  cow  was  estimated  by  the  Bureau  of  Ani- 
mal Industry  at  4000  pounds  of  milk,  and  160  pounds  of 
butter  fat.  Probably  a  quarter  of  the  cows  did  not  pay 
for  the  cost  of  keeping  them,  and  nearly  one-fourth  more 
failed  to  yield  a  profit.  To  correct  this  situation,  three 
lines  of  improvement  are  being  followed:  feeding,  selec- 
tion, and  breeding.  Experiments  in  Iowa  showed  that 
good  feeding,  as  contrasted  with  poor  feeding,  more  than 
doubled  the  total  yield  of  young  stock  over  a  two-year 
period.  The  aim  in  scientific  feeding  is  to  supply  each 
cow  with  the  largest  amount  of  grain  she  can  use  in  milk 
production  without  putting  on  flesh.  The  rough  and  ready 
rule  is  to  feed  one  pound  of  grain  for  every  three  pounds 

*  Shorthorn  Cattle,  2nd  ed.,  1901;  At  the  Sign  of  the  Stock  Yard 
Inn,  1915. 


DEVELOPING  THE  FOOD  SUPPLY     97 

of  milk  produced,  in  addition  to  all  tlie  roughage  the  cow 
will  eat  up  clean.  Warmth,  ventilation  and  general  peace 
and  contentment  are  also  of  great  importance.  Since 
individual  cows  vary  greatly  in  their  capacity  for  utiliz- 
ing food  above  their  maintenance,  regular  testing  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  weed  out  the  less  productive  stock.  At 
the  Georgia  Experiment  Station,  the  best  cow  in  the  herd 
gave  during  twelve  months  7,968  pounds  of  milk,  which 
produced  $115.44  of  butter.  The  poorest  cow  gave  only 
2,788  pounds  of  milk,  with  a  butter  value  of  $41.63.  Be- 
sides selecting  individuals  with  the  best  production  records, 
much  can  be  accomplished  by  breeding  up  the  herd.  Let 
me  refer  again  to  experiments  in  Iowa.  The  introduction 
of  pure-bred  Holstein  sires  brought  an  increased  produc- 
tion in  the  heifers,  at  an  average  age  of  three  years  and  a 
half,  over  their  scrub  mothers  at  an  average  age  of  six 
years,  of  71%  in  milk,  and  42%  in  butterfat.^ 

While  the  production  by  good  grade  herds  compares 
favorably  with  herds  made  up  entirely  of  thoroughbreds, 
the  possibilities  in  breeding  can  be  seen  from  the  world 
records  made  by  pure-bred  cattle.  The  Holstein  cow  Segis 
Pietertje  Prospect,  recently  completed  a  year's  production 
which  showed  37,381.4  pounds  of  milk,  or  an  average  of 
about  60  quarts  a  day.  At  least  six  cows  have  passed  the 
30,000  mark.  The  butterfat  record  for  this  breed  is  held 
by  a  Canadian  cow  which  rejoices  in  the  name  of  Bella 
Pontiac,  with  1,270  lbs.,  which  is  reckoned  as  1,587.5 
lbs.  butter.  For  the  Guernseys,  Mume  Cowan  gave  24,008 
lbs.  milk,  and  Countess  Prue  1,103.28  lbs.  butterfat.  The 
Ayrshire,  Garclaugh  May  Mischief,  produced  25,329  lbs. 
milk;  and  Lily  of  Willowmoor  955.56  lbs.  butterfat.  The 
Jersey  records  are  held  by  Passport,  with  19,694.8  lbs. 
milk;  and  Plain  Mary  with  1,040  lbs.  butterfat.*    Man 

•Iowa  Agric.  Exp.  Sta.,  Bull.  165,  1916;  Clarence  B.  Lane,  Records 
of  Dairy  Cows,  U.  S.  Dept.  Agr.,  Bur.  An.  Industry,  Bull.  75,  1905. 

*  Breeds  of  Dairy  Cattle,  U.  S.  D.  A.,  Farmers  Bulletin  893,  1917, 
records  corrected  to  Dec.  1,  1921.  The  Holstein  milk  record  has 
been  broken  twice  within  two  years. 


98  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

has  gone  far  in  perfecting  the  cow  as  a  machine  for  turn- 
ing concentrated  food  materials  into  milk  and  fat.  Breed- 
ing and  feeding  have  produced  similar  records  for  hogs 
and  poultry. 

Normal  milk  contains  various  types  of  bacteria,  one 
of  which,  the  lactis  acidi,  causes  fermentation  with  the 
mild  acid  flavor  that  we  enjoy  in  our  butter.  In  order  to 
provide  this  uniform  flavor,  the  butter-maker  has  pas- 
teurized his  cream  to  destroy  the  active  bacteria  of  all 
sorts.  He  then  adds  a  pure  culture  of  the  lactis  acidi,  al- 
lows the  cream  to  ferment  under  its  influence,  churns  it, 
works  out  the  surplus  water,  salts  and  colors  it  to  suit  our 
taste,  and  the  butter  is  kept  at  a  low  temperature  until  it 
is  ready  for  the  table.  The  creation  of  our  cheese  is  some- 
what more  complicated.  The  cheese-maker  is  unable,  in 
most  cases,  to  make  use  of  pasteurization,  but  he  secures 
the  desired  fermentation  by  selecting  whole  milk  in  which 
lactis  acidi  predominate,  and  adding  a  pure  culture.  Ren- 
nin,  extracted  from  the  digestive  stomach  of  a  calf,  is  then 
introduced,  to  assist  by  its  enzymes  the  digestion  of  the 
curd.  The  resulting  flavor  is  due  to  some  biologic  action, 
not  yet  understood,  but  stimulated  by  the  acids  of  fermen- 
tation, which  are  under  definite  control,  and  by  the  salt 
which  is  added.  By  changing  the  method  of  production, 
in  some  cases  adding  cultures  of  certain  molds,  the  cheese- 
maker  is  able  to  vary  the  flavor  and  consistency,  and  pro- 
duce over  four  hundred  varieties.^ 

Our  honey  is  a  plant  secretion,  whose  cane  sugar  is 
changed  to  grape  sugar  in  the  bee's  body.  Its  flavor  is 
determined  by  the  flowers  on  whicTi  the  bees  forage.  The 
aim  of  the  bee-keeper  has  been  to  increase  production. 
The  Italian  species  is  most  generally  used,  owing  to  their 
comparative  gentleness  and  disease-resistance,  and  the  in- 
creased laying  power  of  the  queen.     As  all  worker  eggs 

■E.  G.  Hastings,  in  Marshall's  Microbiology,  1917,  408-437;  C.  F. 
Doane  and  H.  W.  Lawson,  Varieties  of  Cheese,  Bur.  Animal  Ind., 
Bun,  105,  1908. 


DEYELOPING  THE  FOOD  SUPPLY     99 

are  laid  by  the  queen,  and  the  life  of  the  worker  bee  during 
the  active  season  is  not  more  than  five  or  six  weeks,  all  that 
is  necessary  for  changing  the  breed  is  to  secure  a  pure-bred 
Italian  queen,  which  may  be  sent  long  distances  by  mail. 
The  increase  of  honey  production  is  secured  through  me- 
chanical devices  and  manipulation.  A  hive  is  constructed 
with  movable  frames,  on  which  are  stretched  sheets  of  wax 
foundation,  stamped  so  as  to  furnish  the  bees  with  the  six- 
sided  bases  of  the  proper  size  for  building  worker  cells. 
The  objective  in  modem  bee-keeping  is  the  strongest  pos- 
sible colony  at  the  time  of  the  main  honey  flow.  Colonies 
of  100,000  bees  are  not  unusual.  To  secure  this,  it  is 
necessary  to  eliminate  swarming.  Instead  of  allowing  the 
bees  to  waste  their  energy  building  up  new  colonies,  man 
keeps  them  at  work  strengthening  the  main  colony  and 
gathering  supplies.  By  the  use  of  these  methods,  I  have 
been  able  to  secure  an  average  surplus  of  100  pounds  of 
extracted  honey  per  colony  in  a  normal  season.  A  yield  of 
200  pounds  is  common,  and  over  400  pounds  has  occa- 
sionally been  realized  as  an  average.  Millions  of  tons  of 
nectar  go  to  waste  annually,  through  the  lack  of  honey  bees 
to  harvest  it,  under  man's  control.  That  such  control  is 
still  inadequate,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  average 
yield  per  colony  in  the  United  States  is  only  45  pounds  of 
honey.  Most  of  the  smaller  apiaries  fall  very  much  below 
this  figure. 

Our  wheaten  bread,  if  made  from  Minneapolis  flour, 
has  been  ground  from  hard  spring  wheat,  grown  in  the 
Red  River  valley.  And  thereby  hangs  an  interesting  tale 
of  plant  breeding.  This  most  important  of  all  cereal  crops 
has  been  cultivated  throughout  historic  times.  The  plant 
is  in  general  self -fertilizing,  allowing  for  the  selection  of 
pure  lines  by  pedigree  culture.  W.  M.  Hays,  of  the  Min- 
nesota Experiment  Station,  began  in  1888  to  try  out  strains 
of  wheat  gathered  from  the  United  States  and  foreign 
countries.  The  Blue  Stem  and  Bed  Fife,  which  had  be* 
come  indigenous  to  Minnesota  were  found  most  satisfac- 


100  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

tory.  In  ten  years'  time,  out  of  552  wheats  grown  in  trial 
plots,  often  from  a  single  kernel,  four  hardy  varieties  had 
been  secured,  with  a  high  gluten  content  and  an  average 
yield  of  22.5  bushels  per  acre.  At  that  time  the  producing 
capacity  for  the  country  as  a  whole  was  about  17  bushels. 
But  the  experimenter  was  not  yet  satisfied.  From  the  best 
types  already  secured,  400  grains  of  wheat  were  planted 
in  single  hills  in  1892,  and  a  new  series  of  31  varieties 
secured.  By  1894  about  a  pint  of  seed  was  available  for 
each  of  these.  At  the  end  of  the  decade,  the  best  of  the  new 
varieties,  Minnesota  163  and  169,  were  beginning  to  be 
supplied  to  farmers.  Their  yield  was  approximately  28 
bushels,  making  possible  an  increase  of  over  10  bushels  per 
acre  for  the  entire  I^orthwest.^ 

The  maize  which  enters  our  diet,  directly  or  indirectly, 
differs  from  wheat  in  that  it  is  normally  cross-fertilized. 
At  the  Connecticut  Experiment  Station,  D.  F.  Jones,  con- 
tinuing the  work  begun  by  East,  has  been  able  to  isolate 
about  a  dozen  pure  lines.  These  in  themselves  lack  vigor, 
but  may  be  crossed  to  furnish  new  combinations  of  desir- 
able qualities.  The  greatest  success  has  been  reached  with 
a  double  cross.  Mr.  Jones  showed  me  the  small  shrivelled 
ears  of  two  strains  of  white  dent  com,  and  the  cross  made 
of  these,  somewhat  larger  but  still  shrivelled.  By  com- 
bining with  a  similar  cross  of  yellow  dent  strains,  he  se- 
cured a  large  perfect  ear,  which  in  the  trial  plots  yielded 
an  average  of  112  bushels  of  shelled  com.  The  average 
yield  on  Connecticut  farms,  the  highest  in  the  country,  is 
44  bushels,  the  best  farmers  reaching  about  75.  The  best 
record  of  the  hybrid  varieties  used  in  the  trial  plots  was 
92  bushels.  The  20%  increase  of  the  new  combination 
was  due  to  the  elimination  of  bad  heredity.  Each  plant 
produced  an  ear  of  corn,  and  this  ear  was  perfect,  ensur- 
ing a  uniform  production  of  grain.  To  take  advantage  of 
the  new  method,  it  will  be  necessary  for  the  farmer  to 
maintain  special  seed  plots,  securing  a  small  quantity  of 

•  Univ.  of  Minn.  Ag.  Exper.  Station,  Bull  62,  1899. 


DEVELOPING  THE  FOOD  StPFL*' '  *'  *  101 

seed  from  the  two  crosses,  and  planting  in  alternate  rows. 
By  detasseling  the  first  row,  its  matured  ears,  fertilized  by 
the  second  row,  will  be  the  desired  double  cross.  This  will 
furnish  seed  for  the  next  year's  planting,*^ 

The  same  patient,  enterprising  cooperation  with  the 
Universe  is  seen  in  the  adaptation  and  improvement  of 
plants  from  distant  countries,  like  the  potato  and  the  to- 
mato, the  navel  orange,  and  countless  garden  flowers;  in 
the  grafting  of  improved  varieties  of  fruit  on  old  stocks; 
in  the  creation  of  new  species,  like  the  thomless  edible 
cactus,  which  cost  Burbank  ten  years  of  crossing  and 
selection.® 

In  providing  these  various  articles  of  food,  Man  has 
been  actively  engaged  in  improving  the  soil  from  which 
they  come.  In  recent  years  his  aim  has  been  to  make  the 
fullest  possible  use  of  the  microorganisms  which  are  the 
chief  factor  in  soil  fertility.  Some  of  these  bacteria  take 
up  free  nitrogen,  and  render  it  available  for  plant  food. 
The  most  useful  are  those  that  attach  themselves  to  the 
roots  of  clover  and  other  legumes.  By  growing  clover  as 
part  of  the  crop  rotation,  the  nitrogen  content  of  the  soil 
is  not  only  maintained  but  increased.  Where  necessary 
the  clover  seed  is  innoculated  before  planting,  and  lime 
added  to  the  soil  to  stimulate  bacterial  action. 

Other  bacteria  and  molds  decompose  animal  waste  and 
dead  organic  matter,  and  thus  make  it  again  fitted  for  the 
use  of  plants.  Careful  treatment  of  liquid  and  solid  ma- 
nure enables  this  process  to  go  on  with  the  least  possible 
loss.  The  application  of  manure,  or  the  plowing  under  of 
green  crops,  supplies  the  soil  bacteria  with  the  food  sup- 
ply on  which  to  continue  their  decomposition  of  the  humus. 
Cultivation  and  drainage  insure  the  amounts  of  moisture 

*The  reader  is  referred  to  Mr.  Jones'  report  and  bibliography  in 
J.  of  the  Am.  8oc.  of  Agronomy,  12,  77,  1920. 

'W.  S.  Harwood,  New  Creations  in  Plant  Life,  1905,  gives  a 
popular  review  of  Burbank's  work.  For  a  general  review  of  the 
subject,  see  Babcock  and  Claussen,  Genetics  in  Agricultttre,  1918, 
with  full  bibliography. 


io3  '  *''*  *^'  ^ '  "'chaos  oe  cosmos ? 

and  oxygen  that  are  necessary  for  tlie  greatest  activity  of 
the  bacteria,  as  well  as  of  the  plant  roots,  in  various  soils. 
Still  other  microorganisms  act,  either  directly  or  indirectly, 
to  break  up  rock  surfaces  for  the  formation  of  new  soil. 
They  also  transform  various  mineral  compounds,  supply- 
ing, for  example,  most  of  the  potash  needed  for  rapid 
plant  growth.  This  most  useful  work  is  stimulated  by  the 
application  of  animal  or  green  manures  or  commercial 
fertilizers.^ 

Through  this  active  and  intelligent  control  of  bacterial 
action,  Man  has  been  able  to  restore  the  fertility  of  worn- 
out  soils,  to  utilize  apparently  barren  regions  for  crop  pro- 
duction, and  to  increase  soil-fertility,  in  spite  of  the 
amount  of  food  material  annually  drawn  from  the  land. 
'New  areas  are  constantly  being  made  available  for  farm- 
ing. The  United  States  Eeclamation  Service  has  provided 
water  for  approximately  3  million  acres  of  arid  land.  The 
general  campaign  for  surface  and  tile  drainage  is  beginning 
to  reclaim  the  80  to  100  million  acres  too  wet  for  culti- 
vation. Similar  movements  are  going  on  in  other  parts  of 
the  world.  As  a  consequence,  the  predictions  of  earlier 
economists  are  reversed,  and  Man  appears  to  be  increasing 
his  food  supply  faster  than  the  population  increases.  The 
species  which  can  achieve  such  a  result  is  not  composed  of 
automatons. 

Professor  Bailey,  in  his  inspiring  book  on  the  Holy 
Earth,  distinguishes  three  stages  in  our  relation  to  the 
planet.  The  collecting  stage  of  the  hunter  and  fisherman 
is  succeeding  by  the  mining  stage.  The  wealth  of  the 
earth  is  exploited  without  thought  for  future  generations. 
There  is  no  attempt  to  clean  up  the  refuse  heaps  and  heal 
the  scars,  and  thus  restore  man's  home  to  its  pristine  order 
and  beauty.  No  one  who  looks  on  hillsides  devastated  by 
wasteful  lumbering,  would  consider  man  a  good  house- 
keeper.    "Farming  has  been  very  much  a  mining  pro- 

•MarshalFs  Micyrobiology,  1917,  289-363;  Chas.  W.  Burkett,  SoiU^ 
1907. 


DEVELOPING  THE  FOOD  SUPPLY     103 

cess,  the  utilizing  of  fertility  easily  at  hand  and  the  mov- 
ing-on  to  lands  unspoiled  of  quick  potash  and  nitrogen." 
Finally  we  enter  the  productive  stage,  where  we  secure 
supplies  by  controlling  the  conditions  of  growth.  The 
American  farmer  is  learning,  like  his  brother  in  Europe, 
to  put  back  into  the  soil  as  much  as  he  takes  out  of  it. 
Farming  begins  to  have  "a  range  of  responsible  and  perma- 
nent morals."  ^^ 

One  of  the  great  social  problems  of  our  age  is  to  insure 
a  succession  of  efficient  and  contented  farmers.  Owner- 
ship versus  tenantry,  technical  training,  labor  and  labor- 
saving  machinery,  proper  marketing,  adequate  financial 
returns,  good  roads,  social  advantages — all  these  enter  into 
the  solution  of  the  problem.  But  still  more  fundamental 
is  the  question  of  inspiration  and  motive.  Legally  the 
farmer  may  be  the  owner  of  his  land.  Morally  he  is  a 
trustee.  He  is  engaged,  as  Bailey  says,  in  a  quasi-public 
business.  He  is  the  agent  of  Society  to  subdue  the  surface 
of  the  earth  and  increase  its  productiveness.  And  the  daily 
work  on  the  farm  represents  what  is  perhaps  our  most  in- 
timate contact  with  God's  activities  in  the  world  around 
us.  A  man  cannot  be  a  good  farmer  unless  he  remembers 
man  and  remembers  God.^^ 

There  is  something  inherently  sacred  in  the  earth  which 
is  man's  principal  source  of  food,  in  the  fructifying  power 
of  moisture  and  sun,  in  the  living  organisms,  lowlier  mem- 
bers of  a  common  evolution,  whose  life  man  is  able  to  con- 
trol, and  put  to  use  for  the  supplying  of  his  needs.  It 
is  not  surprising  that  people  of  an  earlier  culture  wor- 
shipped many  of  these  objects  as  sources  of  fertility,  or  as 
symbols  of  deity.  The  revival  of  Jesus'  idea  of  God's  ac- 
tivity in  ^Nature  should  provide  an  outlet  for  this  natural 
religious  instinct,  in  terms  that  the  modern  world  can 
understand.  God  is  no  longer  an  Absentee  Landlord.  He 
is  our  Partner  in  the  great  creative  enterprise.    The  com- 

«L.  H.  Bailey,  The  Holy  Earth,  1915,  22. 
"M,  32. 


104  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

munion  which  the  IN'ature-lover  feels  in  flower  and  field  and 
wood,  rises  in  the  life  of  the  gardener  or  farmer  to  the 
height  of  definite  cooperation.  Food  is  essential  to  life. 
Civilization  depends  upon  adequate  and  increasing  food 
supply.  Through  the  control  of  Divine  forces  of  repro- 
duction and  growth,  man  works  with  God  in  this  most 
elemental  of  all  services  to  the  race.  In  the  words  of 
IngersoU:  "To  plow  is  to  pray;  to  plant  is  to  prophesy; 
and  the  harvest  answers  and  fulfills." 


XI. 

THE   CONTROL   OF   HEALTH 

The  life  of  any  organism  is  contingent.  It  must  adapt 
itself  to  the  environment.  It  must  continue  to  fulfill  the 
conditions  which  make  organic  life  possible.  In  the  hu- 
man species  this  adaptation  is,  to  some  extent,  under  con- 
scious control.  Successful  adjustment  to  the  Universe  is 
health.  Failure  in  adjustment  means  pain,  sickness,  and 
death.  To  charge  suffering  to  God  would  be  as  absurd  aa 
to  charge  Him  with  the  burning  out  of  the  fuse  of  the 
electric  lights,  when  my  eldest  son  tried  some  scientific 
experiments.  If  positive  and  negative  wires  are  joined, 
a  short  circuit  results.  If  a  man  overeats,  it  is  liable  to 
bring  on  an  attack  of  biliousness.  The  Universe  does  not 
cause  the  biliousness,  any  more  than  it  caused  the  short  cir- 
cuit. It  merely  lays  down  the  conditions  of  successful  or 
unsuccessful  adjustment. 

The  question  of  Health  brings  into  sharp  relief  the  op- 
posing theories  of  Monism  and  Pluralism  which  are  before 
us  in  this  section  of  our  book.  In  Christian  Science  and 
similar  pantheistic  movements,  the  perfecting  of  the  in- 
dividual is  practically  his  absorption  in  the  Universe. 
God  is  represented  as  Perfect  Health.  To  abide  in  health 
one  must  abide  in  God.  Since  God  is  also,  for  this  school, 
the  Absolute  Mind,  health  is  primarily  a  matter  of  mental 
harmony  or  discord.  The  aim  of  the  healer  is  to  exorcise 
sickness,  by  bringing  the  patient  into  an  attitude  of  con- 
fidence, harmony  and  oneness  with  the  Universe  of  which 
he  is  a  part. 

105 


106  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

In  this  position  there  is  much  of  truth  and  practical 
value,  as  we  shall  see.  But  a  wider  view  of  the  field  shows 
that  the  correct  adjustment  of  man  to  the  Universe  is  not 
merely  mental.  It  is  also  structural,  chemical  and  bac- 
teriological. These  factors  are  not  mutually  exclusive. 
Rather  they  supplement  and  shade  into  each  other.  The 
science  of  Medicine,  in  its  four-fold  aspect,  is  part  of  the 
creative  achievement  of  the  human  mind  which  we  have  al- 
ready discussed.  In  this  chapter  we  shall  apply  such 
knowledge  in  some  detail  to  the  case  of  the  individual  man. 
Christianity,  like  other  religions,  has  made  valuable  use 
of  suggestion  and  faith.  But  the  laws  of  health  are  laws 
of  God.  To  know  these  laws  and  follow  them  is  as  much 
a  religious  duty  as  to  follow  the  Ten  Commandments.  The 
forces  of  the  Universe  that  make  for  health  are  at  our 
command,  but  we  are  required  to  make  active  and  intelli- 
gent use  of  them.  I^ot  to  call  on  the  best  medical  skill 
available,  is  to  neglect  some  of  the  most  notable  coopera- 
tion of  man  with  God.-^ 

Since  the  human  body  is  a  physical  machine,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  keep  that  machine  intact,  and  in  proper  working 
order.  Surgery  attempts  to  correct  man's  adjustment  on 
the  physical  side,  whenever  this  has  been  disturbed  by  acci- 
dent or  other  cause.  A  man's  hand  was  severed  in  our 
local  saw-mill,  and  hanging  only  by  a  piece  of  skin.  Plac- 
ing him  under  an  anaesthetic,  the  surgeons  in  the  hospital 

*For  any  one  who  cares  to  follow  further  the  subject  of  this 
chapter,  the  number  of  good  books  is  legion.  I  suggest  the  follow- 
ing: John  F.  Binnie,  Manual  of  Operative  Surgery,  7th  ed., 
1916;  Russell  Howard,  Practice  of  Surgery,  2nd  ed.,  1918;  Albert 
P.  Mathews,  Physiolog.  Chemistry,  2nd  ed.,  1916;  Graham  Lusk, 
Science  of  Nutrition,  3rd  ed.,  1917;  Wm.  Osier,  Principles  and 
Practice  of  Medicine,  8th  ed.,  1918;  M.  J.  Rosenau,  Preventive 
Medicine  and  Hygiene,  2nd  ed.,  1916;  Wm.  Brady,  Personal  Health, 
1916;  Irving  Fisher  and  Eugene  L.  Fisk,  How  to  Live,  1915;  Edwin 
O.  Jordan,  General  Bacteriology,  6th  ed.,  1918;  Marshall's  Microbi- 
ology, 2n(i  ed.,  1917;  Hans  Zinsser,  Infection  and  Resistance,  2nd 
ed.,  1918;  Paul  Dubois,  Psychic  Treatment  of  Nervous  Disorders, 
Eng.  trans.,  1907;  Wm.  A.  White,  Prin's  of  Mental  Hygiene,  1917; 
Hugo  Miinsterberg,  Psychotherapy^  1909;  Richard  C.  Cabot,  What 
Men  Live  By,  1914. 


THE  CONTROL  OF  HEALTH  107 

set  the  bones,  and  rejoined  the  nerves  and  blood-vessels. 
The  natural  forces  of  growth  did  the  rest,  and  the  man 
regained  almost  complete  use  of  his  hand.  Where  a  limb 
cannot  be  saved,  it  is  amputated,  and  the  patient  fitted  with 
an  artificial  leg  or  arm.  A  tumor  or  a  diseased  appendix, 
which  threaten  the  loss  of  life,  may  be  removed.  In  the 
case  of  serious  burns,  skin  may  be  grafted  from  another 
part  of  the  body,  or  even  from  a  different  person.  Sec- 
tions of  tissue  and  bone  are  transplanted.  Transfusion  of 
blood  is  also  practiced.  Manipulation  or  massage  may  re- 
store normal  circulation  in  obstructed  nerves  or  muscles. 
The  improvement  of  defective  sight,  or  its  compensation 
by  artificial  lenses,  relieves  eye-strain  and  saves  health  and 
efficiency.  The  science  of  Dentistry,  supplementing  proper 
care  of  the  teeth,  enables  us  to  keep  this  important  part  of 
our  anatomy  functioning  even  to  old  age,  and  to  avoid 
the  poisoning  of  the  blood  or  of  the  food  material  which 
results  from  decay.  These  are  but  samples  of  the  repair 
of  man's  physical  machine  which  the  advance  of  Science 
has  made  possible.  Passive  absorption  in  the  Absolute 
Mind  does  not  provide  new  teeth  or  remove  adenoids  or 
restore  severed  hands.  Surgery  can  only  release  the  forces 
of  assimilation  and  growth  through  which  God  operates 
in  the  physical  organism.  But  man  must  do  his  part,  on 
pain  of  death. 

That  man's  corrective  task  is  far  from  complete  was 
shown  by  the  examinations  under  the  American  army 
draft.  Of  two  and  a  half  million  men  examined  under 
the  first  draft,  29  %  were  rejected  as  unfit  for  active  mili- 
tary service,^  and  nearly  30%  of  the  two  succeeding 
drafts.  That  is,  practically  a  third  of  all  American  men 
are  physically  abnormal.  It  is  interesting  to  note  the 
classification  made  of  nearly  half  a  million  disqualifica- 
tions reported  by  local  boards  and  camp  surgeons.^ 

"Provost  Marshall  General,  Fvrat  Report ,  1918,  44. 
•Id.,  Second  Report,  1919. 


108  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

CAUSE  FOR  REJECTION  NUMBER      PER   CENT 

Total  for  all  causes 467,694  100.00 

Alcohol  and  drugs ,  2,007  .43 

Bones  And  joints 57,744  12.35 

Physical  under-development 39,166  8.37 

Digestive  system 2,476  .53 

Ears 20,465  4.38 

Eyes ,  49,801  10.65 

Flatfoot  (pathological) 18,087  3.87 

Genito-nrinary  (venereal)    6,235  1.33 

Genito-iirinary   (non-venereal)    . .  6,309  1.35 

Heart  and  blood  vessels  61,142  13.07 

Hernia 28,268  6.04 

Mental  deficiency 24,514  5.24 

Nervous  and  mental  disorders 23,728  6.07 

Eespiratory  (tuberculous) 40,533  8.67 

Kespiratory  (non-tuberculous)    . 7,823  1.67 

Skin 12,519  2.68 

Teeth 14,793  3.16 

Thyroid 8,215  1.78 

Tuberculosis,  non-respiratory  . . . —  .  4,136  .88 

The  human  body  has  its  own  power  plant  and  its  own 
chemical  laboratory.  The  latter  produces  the  enzymes 
needed  for  digesting  and  assimilating  the  different  food 
elements,  and  for  oxidizing  the  blood  and  lymph  which 
are  to  replenish  the  energy  of  the  various  cells  and  carry 
off  the  wasta  Given  a  fair  chance,  the  organism  will 
maintain  its  own  chemical  and  thermal  equilibrium.  Air, 
food  and  water,  exercise  and  sleep  of  the  proper  quality 
and  amount,  cleanliness,  and  the  insulation  of  the  body 
through  clothing  or  warmed  air,  are  all  that  is  necessary, 
under  normal  conditions,  to  maintain  perfect  health.  God 
provides  them  all.  Man  needs  only  to  find  them  and  use 
them,  and  the  Divine  forces  in  the  organism  will  respond. 
The  human  body  is  indeed  a  temple,  more  sacred  than  any 
built  with  hands,  where  we  may  know  the  presence  of  the 
Highest,  and  witness  the  constant  miracle  of  God's  ac- 


THE  CONTROL  OP  HEALTH  109 

tivity.  To  be  a  faithful  and  worthy  keeper  of  that  temple 
is  the  holiest  of  callings.  Ordinary  sickness  is  a  punish- 
ment for  the  sin  of  neglected  duty. 

At  times,  usually  through  some  failure  on  man's  part, 
the  chemical  equilibrium  of  the  body  is  disturbed.  A 
change  in  the  amount  or  constitution  of  the  food  elements, 
or  in  the  substances  naturally  eliminated  from  the  system, 
radically  alters  the  activities  of  the  tissue  cells,  causing 
them  to  secrete  toxins,  or  organic  poisons.  These  affect 
the  organism  in  various  ways.  The  nutrition  of  the  cells 
becomes  insufficient  Their  fats  or  carbohydrates  may  be 
used  up  too  rapidly,  bringing  corresponding  changes  in  the 
waste  products.  Sugar  may  accumulate  in  the  blood,  since 
the  tissues  are  unable  to  absorb  the  usual  amount.  Con- 
gestion in  the  intestinal  canal  will  cause  further  toxins  to 
develop.  The  body  soon  gives  those  symptoms  of  sickness 
which  are  merely  indications  of  changed  metabolism.  The 
internal  nerve-endings  send  the  danger  signals  which  we 
know  as  pain.  There  may  be  heightened  temperature,  a 
cough,  an  attack  of  vomiting,  a  loss  of  appetite,  a  general 
feeling  of  lassitude.  For  the  correction  of  these  bad 
chemical  conditions,  man  has  learned  the  empirical  use  of 
drugs.  Organs  may  be  artificially  stimulated,  toxins 
counteracted,  elimination  improved.  We  know  the  end 
result,  but  practically  nothing  of  the  processes  involved. 
The  disturbance  to  the  system  is  liable  to  be  as  great  as  the 
benefit.  The  tendency  in  modem  Medicine  is  to  consider 
such  treatment  merely  an  emergency  measure.  The  real 
aim  is  to  bring  about  such  change  in  diet  or  other  condi- 
tions as  will  give  the  body's  own  chemistry  a  chance  to 
right  itself. 

The  disturbance  of  the  chemical  equilibrium  of  the  body 
may  be  due  to  microorganisms.  The  bacteria  and  other 
types  which  are  responsible  for  infectious  diseases,  usually 
enter  through  the  mouth  or  nose,  or  through  wounds  in  the 
skin.  When  able  to  multiply,  they  generate  toxins  by  their 
action  on  food  materials  and  body  cells.    The  toxins  are 


110  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

the  direct  cause  of  tlie  disease,  through  the  disturbance  of 
functional  activities. 

Man's  attack  on  these  dangerous  organisms,  in  the 
interest  of  health,  has  followed  four  lines.  In  the  first 
place,  our  aim  is  to  reduce  the  sources  of  infection,  by 
isolating  persons  who  may  be  carriers,  and  by  destroying  as 
far  as  possible  the  bacteria  themselves.  Of  the  success  of 
this  work  we  shall  have  more  to  say  in  the  next  chapter. 
In  the  second  place,  our  effort  is  directed  toward  keeping 
the  human  body  in  the  most  perfect  physical  condition. 
Man  has  a  natural  power  of  disease  resistance.  With  an 
unbroken  skin,  and  ducts  and  hair  follicles  in  normal  con- 
dition, there  is  no  danger  of  surface  infection.  The 
mucous  membranes  tend  to  protect  the  inner  surfaces. 
Although  disease  germs  are  constantly  present  in  the 
mouths  of  healthy  persons,  some  of  them  are  removed 
mechanically,  and  others  checked  or  destroyed  by  the  acid 
secretions  in  the  mouth  and  other  organs.  The  leucocytes, 
or  white  corpuscles  of  the  blood,  are  active  devourers  of 
bacteria,  after  the  latter  have  been  rendered  appetizing 
by  contact  with  certain  chemical  substances  in  the  body 
fluids  known  as  opsonins.  If  a  tissue  has  been  injured, 
the  leucocytes  tend  to  gather  around  the  infected  spot  and 
destroy  the  predatory  organisms.  This  bodily  reaction  is 
known  as  inflammation.  It  often  leads  to  the  formation 
of  a  wall  of  cells  that  localizes  the  disturbance.  When 
toxins  develop,  the  natural  tendency  of  the  body  is  to  de- 
velop antitoxins  to  combat  them.  The  degree  of  inamunity, 
general  or  specific,  varies  greatly  with  the  individual,  and 
with  the  state  of  health.  Fifty  per  cent  of  all  normal 
persons,  for  example,  possess  in  their  blood  a  natural  anti- 
toxin for  diphtheria.  A  person  who  has  had  an  infectious 
disease  is  usually  immune  to  it  afterward. 

The  third  line  of  attack  is  the  development  of  artificial 
immunity.  Weakened  or  modified  viruses  known  as  vac- 
cines, usually  the  dead  bacteria  in  some  form,  are  given, 
to  stimulate  the  development  of  natural  defences  against 


THE  CONTROL  OF  HEALTH  111 

the  disease.  In  antiserum  treatment,  the  protective  sub- 
stances, instead  of  being  developed  in  the  body,  are  sup- 
plied from  other  animals,  which  have  been  innoculated  with 
the  disease.  Sometimes,  as  in  diphtheria,  the  serum  in- 
jected is  designed  to  neutralize  the  toxin.  In  other  cases, 
for  example  pneumonia,  the  aim  is  to  kill  the  bacteria 
themselves,  directly  or  indirectly,  and  the  serum  does  not 
create  immunity.  The  advance  in  practice  in  this  depart- 
ment of  Medicine,  with  the  knowledge  of  organic  chemistry 
that  lies  behind  it,  must  rank  as  one  of  the  greatest 
achievements  of  Science. 

Fourthly,  we  have  the  treatment  of  the  disease  after  it 
has  developed.  The  aim  is  to  restore,  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible, the  patient's  power  of  disease  resistance.  Antisenmis 
and  germicides  are  applied,  when  these  will  be  useful. 
Diet,  elimination  and  temperature  are  carefully  regulated, 
and  organs  stimulated  to  renewed  activity.  In  other  words 
we  do,  under  conditions  of  great  disadvantage,  what  could 
have  been  done  in  most  cases  by  preventive  medicine  and 
hygiene.  To  cure  the  sick,  through  scientific  knowledge, 
shows  the  cooperation  of  man  with  God.  Yet  it  is  co- 
operation of  a  distinctly  lower  order  than  that  involved 
in  the  preservation  of  health.  The  resulting  adjustment  to 
the  Universe  is  far  less  certain  and  complete.  It  is  like 
putting  out  a  blaze  in  a  rubbish-littered  basement,  when 
we  might  have  kept  the  building  in  such  condition  that 
there  would  have  been  no  fire. 

In  this  connection  a  further  employment  of  microor- 
ganisms may  be  mentioned.  Metchnikoff  made  the  dis- 
covery that  ill  health  was  due  largely  to  putrefaction  in 
the  intestine,  caused  by  certain  bacteria.  If  we  could  re- 
place these  bacteria  by  others  of  a  harmless  type,  health 
would  be  promoted  and  life  prolonged.  He  claimed  that 
it  was  possible  to  do  this  through  feeding  milk  soured  by 
the  Bacillus  hulgaricus,  Metchnikoff's  theory  appeared  in 
1907,  and  was  widely  exploited.  We  know  now  that  he  had 
picked  out  the  wrong  organism.    I  have  been  able  to  follow 


il2  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

somewliat  closely  the  series  of  experiments  carried  out  in 
the  Yale  laboratories  under  the  direction  of  Professor 
Rettger.  They  have  demonstrated  that  the  beneficial  re- 
sults are  due  to  the  Bacillus  acidopliilus,  which  is  strikingly 
similar  to  the  hulgaricus  in  appearance.  When  we  feed 
milk  soured  by  the  former  organism,  it  becomes  predomi- 
nant in  the  intestine  and  the  putrefactive  bacteria  are  elim-« 
inated.  The  experiments  were  made  largely  with  white 
rats.  All  mammalian  digestion  follows  a  common  line,  and 
similar  results  have  already  been  obtained  with  human 
beings.  It  seems  probable  that  human  digestive  troubles 
will  in  future  be  controlled  through  the  Bdcillus  acido- 
philuSj  by  the  addition  of  cultures  to  the  normal  diet.* 

A  person's  state  of  mind  is  an  important  element  in 
physical  health.  The  connection  is  very  close  between  con- 
scious or  subconscious  thought  and  the  system  of  nerves 
which  control  secretion  and  the  distribution  of  blood. 
An  idea  may  bring  out  tears  or  sweat,  make  the  mouth 
water,  cause  blushing,  pallor,  cold  hands  or  feet  Eecent 
studies  have  shown  that  calmness,  contentment  and  pleas- 
ureable  emotion  are  necessary  for  perfect  functioning  of 
the  digestive  organs.  On  the  other  hand,  worry,  vexation, 
anger,  fear,  in  fact  any  strong  emotional  excitement,  will 
cause  the  secretion  of  adrenin  from  the  adrenal  glands. 
This  in  turn  brings  other  bodily  changes.  Blood  pressure 
is  raised,  and  sugar  increased  in  blood  and  urine.  Saliva 
and  gastric  juices  are  no  longer  secreted.  Contraction 
ceases  in  the  muscles  which  move  food  through  the  stomach 
and  intestines.  The  result  is  temporary  or  chronic  indi- 
gestion, to  which  the  name  "emotional  dyspepsia"  has 
been  given.  At  times,  however,  the  secretion  of  adrenin 
under  strong  emotional  excitement  may  have  a  physiologi- 
cal value.  The  increased  blood  supply,  its  diversion  from 
certain  areas,  and  its  high  energy  content,  make  greater 
muscular  activity  possible.     Heavy  breathing  gives  room 

•Leo  F.  Rettger  and  Harry  A.  Cheplin,  Transformation  of  the 
Intestinal  Flora,  1921. 


THE  CONTEOL  OF  HEALTH  113 

for  additional  carbon  dioxide  in  the  blood.  The  adrenin 
relaxes  the  smooth  muscles  in  the  lungs,  and  in  general 
acts  as  an  antidote  to  fatigue.  These  values,  which  were 
vital  in  the  struggles  of  primitive  man,  are  utilized  today 
in  the  exertion  and  excitement  of  athletic  contests  and 
other  forms  of  active  exercise.^ 

Medicine  is  now  making  use  of  this  close  connection 
between  the  mind,  and  the  nervous  system  which  regulates 
the  activity  of  the  body.  Persons  constantly  make  sug- 
gestions to  themselves  regarding  their  bodily  condition. 
And  these  suggestions  are  being  carried  out,  sometimes  to 
a  remarkable  degree  as  in  paralysis  of  the  limbs  or  produc- 
tion of  scars  on  the  skin.  In  functional  nervous  troubles, 
the  patient  is  not  only  liable  to  various  mental  delusions. 
Practically  any  organ  or  part  of  the  body  may  be  affected. 
The  aim  of  the  trained  operator  is  to  displace  suggestions 
of  sickness,  and  encourage  suggestions  of  mental  and  physi- 
cal health.  The  conscious  personality  of  an  adult  is  pro- 
tected by  a  sort  of  armor,  formed  by  the  habits  and  fric- 
tions of  daily  experience.  Beneath  this  are  the  subcon- 
scious depths  to  which  reference  was  made  in  an  earlier 
chapter.  The  problem  is  to  pierce  this  armor  and  thus 
reach  the  undermind,  with  its  immense  possibilities  for 
initiating  new  attitudes  and  controlling  bodily  changes. 
Sometimes  this  is  done  through  a  sudden  shock.  The 
undermind  may  be  directly  exposed,  as  in  hypnotic  sleep. 
Or  casual  conversation  will  give  an  entrance  through  in- 
direct suggestion.  To  reach  that  mysterious  region  be- 
neath the  threshold  of  ordinary  consciousness,  is  to  hold 
at  least  one  of  the  keys  to  health.^ 

The  cures  made  in  our  psychiatric  laboratories  are  paral- 
leled by  Christian  Science  and  by  the  Roman  Catholic 
shrine  at  Lourdes.  In  these  cases  the  same  method  of  sug- 
gestion is  followed,   although  blindly  and  without  ade- 

*W.  B.  Cannon,  Bodily  Changes  m  Pain,  Hunger,  Fear  a/nd  Rage, 
1915. 
•Percy  Dearmer,  Body  and  8<mh  1909,  135. 


114  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

quate  diagnosis.  Keligious  faith  is  one  of  the  important 
instruments  used  by  the  physician  to  counteract  hysteria 
and  morbid  auto-suggestion.  The  rapid  increase  in  ner- 
vous diseases  has  given  increased  importance  to  the  work 
of  the  trained  psychiatrist,  and  to  the  education  of  the 
public  in  mental  hygiene. 

But  the  value  of  suggestion  is  not  confined  to  patients 
suffering  from  nervous  disorders,  as  the  records  of  healing 
cults  abundantly  testify.  Through  its  vaso-motor  nerve 
connections,  the  mind  may  exert  a  curative,  as  well  as  a 
pathological,  influence  on  any  function  of  the  human  or- 
ganism. In  fact  there  is  no  diseased  process  in  the  body 
that  may  not  be  retarded  by  ideas  or  emotions  implanted 
in  the.  patient's  mind.  I  know  from  my  own  experience 
that  it  is  possible  by  will-power  and  practice  to  reduce  one's 
sensitiveness  to  pain  and  to  exorcise  many  minor  ailments. 
Mental  treatment  is  not  a  substitute  for  surgery,  chemistry 
or  antitoxins.  But  since  all  cure  as  we  have  seen  must  be 
self  cure,  the  recovery  by  the  body  of  its  normal  equi- 
librium, a  healthy  attitude  of  mind  undoubtedly  operates 
to  increase  disease  resistance  and  aid  recovery.  Every 
general  practitioner  acts  on  this  principle.  He  seeks  to 
stimulate  hope  and  banish  worry  and  fear.  The  use  of 
specific  suggestion,  as  a  supplement  to  other  means  of 
cure,  is  likely  to  find  an  increasing  place,  as  English 
and  American  doctors  learn  to  overcome  their  unfortu- 
nate conservatism  in  regard  to  new  methods  of  treat- 
ment. 

Christianity,  through  most  of  its  history,  has  healed  the 
sick  and  cast  out  demons.  This  cooperation  between  man 
and  God  in  the  work  of  healing,  has  developed  into  the 
specialized  professions  of  Medicine  and  Nursing,  utilizing 
a  growing  body  of  scientific  knowledge.  The  work  is  no 
less  religious.  It  still  represents  the  adjustment  of  human 
knowledge  to  the  conditions  of  the  Universe,  the  control 
by  man  of  Divine  forces  making  for  health.  And  by  induc- 
ing the  attitude  of  mind  that  is  essential  to  all  successful 


THE  CONTROL  OF  HEALTH  115 

medical  treatment,  the  religion  of  Jesus  proves  its  value/ 
and  perhaps  its  truth  as  well.  To  see  in  all  the  external 
world  the  activity  of  the  ever  present  Father.  To  trust  Him 
and  love  Him.  To  forget  oneself  in  the  work  that  needs 
to  be  done  in  God's  world.  To  feel  the  beauty  and  joy 
of  life;  to  win  strength  and  satisfaction  even  from  its 
struggles  and  losses  and  pains.  To  refuse  to  give  way  to 
hatred,  fear,  lust,  greed,  envy.  To  train  one's  mind  to 
dwell  on  the  good  traits  of  one's  fellows,  on  pleasant  rather 
than  unpleasant  happenings,  on  health  rather  than  on 
sickness,  to  think  in  terms  of  life  and  not  of  death.  To 
see  in  every  normal  function  of  the  body  a  meeting  between 
man  and  God.  To  consider  even  one's  sleep  an  act  of 
communion,  a  relaxation  from  the  strain  of  creative  work 
in  which  we  have  shared,  a  time  of  recreation  with  the 
Father  after  a  busy  day. 

A  patient  with  such  an  attitude  of  mind  is  received  with 
confidence  at  the  operating  table,  if  surgical  treatment  be- 
comes necessary,  and  trusted  by  the  doctor  in  a  time  of 
epidemic  He  will  have  little  occasion  to  consult  the  spe- 
cialist on  nervous  disorders.  Healthy  thinking  is  a  condi- 
tion of  healthy  living.  The  Christian,  like  his  Master,  is 
in  harmony  with  the  Universe.  He  is  living  and  working 
with  the  God  on  whom  man,  in  his  physical  life,  is  so 
closely  dependent. 

'Helpful  practical  suggestions  will  be  found  in  Chas.  R.  Brown, 
Faith  and  Health,  2nd  ed.,  1910;  Oliver  Huckel,  Mental  Medicine, 
1909;  H.  Addington  Bruce,  Nerve  Control  a/nd  How  to  Qavn  It,  4th 
ed.,  1919. 


XII. 

SHAPII^G  THE  COUESE  OF  PEOVIDENCE. 

In  shaping  tlie  conditions  of  human  life,  the  race  has  a 
growing  responsibility.  What  we  know  as  Providence  is 
a  matter  of  cooperation,  in  which  Man  claims  an  ever  in- 
creasing share.  The  fatalist  merely  submits  to  the  decrees 
of  the  Universe,  as  to  a  finished  order.  But  civilized  man 
is  not  a  fatalist.  He  refuses  to  consider  present  conditions 
inevitable.  Through  the  control  of  natural  forces,  he 
rises  up  to  do  his  part  with  God  in  the  prevention  of  acci- 
dents, the  insurance  against  recurring  dangers,  and  the 
improving  of  the  environment. 

Take,  for  example,  that  overshadowing  dread  of  the 
region  in  which  I  have  been  living,  the  forest  fire.  It  may 
start  from  bonfires,  from  the  pipe  of  a  careless  settler, 
from  an  abandoned  camp-fire  creeping  underground,  from 
the  sparks  thrown  out  by  a  railway  locomotive.  Some- 
body is  responsible,  a  human  somebody.  The  settler  must 
learn  not  to  be  careless  with  his  land  clearing,  or  the 
sportsman  with  his  camp-fire.  The  railway  must  be  com- 
pelled to  burn  oil  instead  of  coal  in  forest  regions,  or  to 
use  proper  spark  arresters.  The  only  case  for  which  the 
Universe  might  be  held  responsible,  is  that  of  a  fire  caused 
by  lightning ;  though  a  heavy  wind  may  turn  an  apparently 
harmless  fire  into  a  terrible  agency  of  destruction,  as  in 
the  conflagration  which  swept  northern  Minnesota  in  1918. 
But  even  in  such  cases,  the  fire  can  be  held  in  check,  kept 
from  doing  serious  damage,  by  burning  the  slash,  cutting 
fire  lanes  through  the  woods,  and  keeping  a  strong  enough 
force  of  fire  wardens  patrolling  the  district. 

116 


SHAPING  THE  COURSE  OF  PROVIDENCE    117 

The  animal  forest  fire  loss  in  the  United  States  is  esti- 
mated at  $28,000,000,  and  the  area  burned  over  each  year 
is  ten  times  greater  than  the  areas  of  France  devastated 
by  the  War.^  The  measure  of  man's  assumption  of  respon- 
sibility may  be  indicated  by  the  following  figures,  taken 
from  three  government  reservations,  which  have  been  in 
charge  of  technically  trained  forest  supervisors  since  1909. 
A  comparison  is  made  between  the  seasons  of  1910  and 
1919,  which  were  the  worst  since  the  establishment  of  the 
Forest  Service.  The  season  of  1919  came  as  the  culmina- 
tion of  three  dry  years.  It  also  began  earlier  and  con- 
tinued six  weeks  longer  than  in  1910.  As  will  be  seen 
from  the  figures,  the  losses  were  reduced  by  scientific  man- 
agement from  93  to  97.5  per  cent.^  The  protection  given 
would  be  still  more  adequate,  if  the  necessary  funds  were 
provided  by  Congress. 


National  Forest 

Coeur  d'Alene 

Kaniksu 

Lolo 

Area,  acres .... 

790,234 

702,405 

1,181,018 

Calendar    years 

1910 

1919 

1910 

1919 

1910 

1919 

No.  of  fires.... 

272 

113 

38 

89 

133 

332 

Lightning    .... 

16 

29 

9 

45 

13 

62 

Human  causes. 

256 

84 

29 

44 

120 

270 

Total  acreage 
burned    

502,000 

49,760 

19,117 

7,283 

188,700 

98,944 

Total  damage.. 

$6,975,000 

$180,058 

182,500 

$9,858 

$1,195,000 

$84,460 

Total  cost  of 
suppression   . 

$126,114 

$200,653 

$29,748 

$26,870 

$77,772 

$290,674 

The  fire  loss  in  our  towns  and  cities  reached  the  alarm- 
ing total  of  $219,571,000  in  1919,  or  enough  to  pay  for 

*  Figures  furnished  to  Congress  by  Am.  Forestry  Ass'n,  Feb.  22, 
1920. 

*The  figures  have  been  given  me  by  J".  G,  Peters,  of  the  U.  S. 
Forest  Service. 


118  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

the  Panama  Canal  in  less  than  two  years.  Civilized  man 
has  developed  elaborate  machinery  for  putting  out  fires. 
And  a  system  of  insurance  has  been  built  up,  by  which  the 
possibility  of  loss  is  carefully  estimated  and  carried  over 
a  series  of  years.  But  such  measures  place  a  heavy  burden 
on  the  community.  In  1907  the  fire  hazard,  including 
both  the  destruction  of  property  and  the  excess  cost  of  pro- 
tection and  insurance  due  to  faulty  construction,  was  esti- 
mated at  $456,000,000,  or  nearly  one-half  the  value  of  the 
buildings  erected  during  the  year.  Man  will  not  assume 
his  full  responsibility  for  this  side  of  Providence,  until  he 
has  solved  the  problem  of  fire  prevention.  Practically 
all  conflagrations  start  from  human  carelessness.  Of  the 
10,069  fires  in  New  York  City  in  1911,  the  principal 
causes  were  as  follows: 

Carelessness  with  lighted  matches 1,366 

Children  playing  with  matches  354 

Carelessness  with  cigars  or  cigarettes   970 

Carelessness  with  candles 409 

Carelessness  with  gas  lights,  ranges,  etc 530 

Overheated  stoves,  stovepipes,  etc... 446 

Chimney  fires 509 

Bonfires,  brush  fires,  etc 698 

Spontaneous  combustion  of  oily  waste 102 

Lamps,  kerosene,  gasoline,  etc 117 

Electric  wires,  defective  insulation  . . ., 231 

Vapor  of  benzine,  gasoline,  etc.,  igniting  ....  209 

There  evidently  is  great  need  for  the  education  of  the 
public  along  this  line,  and  the  enforcement  of  strict  regu- 
lations. Mr.  Croker,  after  27  years  of  active  service  in 
the  'New  York  Fire  Department,  states  that  every  fire  is 
preventable.  Out  of  12  million  buildings  in  the  United 
States,  he  estimates  that  11  million  have  been  built  in  en- 
tire disregard  of  the  combustible  nature  of  their  materials. 
Present  "fire-proof"  construction  aims  at  saving  the  build- 
ing itself,  even  if  the  contents  are  destroyed.     "Death- 


SHAPING  THE  COURSE  OF  PROVIDENCE     119 

proof"  and  "conflagration  proof"  should  be  added  to  the 
specifications,  the  flames  being  confined  to  a  definite  area 
by  effective  partitions.  "Combustible  and  semi-combus- 
tible materials  must  be  absolutely  eliminated.  If  I  had 
my  way  about  it,  I  would  not  permit  a  piece  of  wood  as 
big  as  a  man's  finger  to  be  used  in  the  construction  of  any 
building  in  the  United  States  which  had  a  ground  area 
larger  than  25  by  50  feet  and  was  more  than  three  stories 
in  height."  Automatic  sprinkler  systems,  properly  in- 
stalled and  maintained,  reduce  the  fire  risk  from  50  to 
80  per  cent. 

European  cities  furnish  an  instructive  comparison  with 
our  own  country  and  suggest  the  possibilities  of  man's 
control  in  the  matter  of  fire.  There  is  more  widespread 
use  of  non-combustible  materials.  An  older  civilization 
has  made  the  people  more  cautious.  Fire  marshals  in- 
vestigate the  cause  of  every  fire,  which  is  considered  a 
crime  for  which  the  guilty  party  must  be  punished.  The 
fire  losses  in  London  and  Paris  in  1911  were  respectively 
one-fifth  and  one-ninth  that  of  New  York.  The  per  capita 
loss  of  $2.62  in  the  United  States  is  reduced  to  $0.81  in 
France,  and  $0.53  in  England.  Cincinnati,  with  about 
the  same  population  as  Frankfort,  Germany,  shows  a  loss 
of  $5.70  for  each  inhabitant,  as  compared  with  $0.31.' 

While  man  has  gained  great  advantage  through  dis- 
counting accident  and  death,  as  well  as  fire,  by  means  of 
insurance,  a  real  control  of  Providence  requires  the  pre- 
vention of  accidents  and  the  prolongation  of  life.  Much 
has  already  been  accomplished  in  these  directions. 

Old  age,  which  may  be  postponed  by  right  living,  but 
not  prevented,  brings  a  hardening  of  the  arteries  and  a 
weakening  of  the  various  tissues  and  organs.  Pearl  has 
made  an  interesting  biological  classification  of  the  normal 
causes  of  death,  as  given  in  standard  mortality  tables.  He 
finds  that  human  organs  break  down  in  the  following  order, 
the  figures  representing  the  number  of  deaths  per  100,000 

»Edw.  F.  Croker,  Fire  Prevention,  1912. 


120  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

in  the  U.  S.  Kegistration  Area  from  1906-10: — respira- 
tory system,  395.7;  alimentary  tract  and  associated  organs, 
334.9 ;  circulatory  system  and  blood,  209.8 ;  nervous  system 
and  sense  organs,  175.7;  kidneys  and  related  excretory 
organs,  107.2;  primary  and  secondary  sexual  organs,  88.1 ; 
skeletal  and  muscular  system,  12.6;  skin,  10.1;  endocrinal 
system,  1.5.  The  nervous  system  and  skin,  which  have 
sprung  from  the  original  ectoderm  layer  and  represent 
the  greatest  evolutionary  adaptation,  are  responsible  for 
only  14.3%  of  the  deaths;  the  mesoderm  group  (skeleton, 
muscles,  circulatory  system,  sex-organs,  and  kidneys)  for 
31.8% ;  and  the  endoderm  group  (respiratory  system  and 
alimentary  tract),  which  has  changed  least,  shows  the 
alarming  total  of  53.9%.  "Practically,  all  public  health 
activities  are  directed  toward  overcoming  the  difficulties 
which  arise  because  man  carries  about  this  antediluvian 
sort  of  endoderm.  We  endeavor  to  modify  the  environ- 
ment, and  soften  its  asperities  down  to  the  point  where  our 
ovni  inefficient  endocrinal  mechanism  can  cope  with  them, 
by  such  methods  as  preventing  bacteriological  contamina- 
tion of  water,  food  and  the  like,  warming  the  air  we 
breathe,  etc."  Figures  for  England  and  Wales  are  simi- 
lar to  those  for  the  United  States.  In  the  Brazilian  state 
of  San  Paolo,  however,  where  sanitation  is  less  advanced, 
the  percentage  of  deaths  due  to  the  break-down  of  the 
respiratory  or  alimentary  systems,  rises  to  62.6.* 

According  to  Dr.  William  J.  Mayo,  fifteen  years  have 
been  added  to  the  average  length  of  life  in  this  country 
since  the  close  of  the  Civil  War,  with  the  prospect  of  add- 
ing another  fifteen  years,  within  the  next  two  decades. 
He  considers  that  50  per  cent  of  all  sickness  is  preventable. 
It  is  the  duty  of  the  State  to  guard  the  health  of  its  citi- 
zens through  the  prevention  of  disease.  A  nation  is  cul- 
pable if  its  citizens  are  allowed  to  become  ill  through  mani- 
fest neglect.     He  cites  the  witness  of  the  World  War  to 

*  Raymond  Pearl,  Am.  Naturalist,  54,  5,  1920. 


SHAPING  THE  COURSE  OF  PROVIDENCE    121 

the  triumph  of  modem  Medicine.  "For  the  first  time  in 
the  history  of  wars,  the  number  of  deaths  from  casualties 
was  greater  than  the  number  of  deaths  from  disease. 
Eighty-five  per  cent  (Billings)  of  the  injured  soldiers 
were  able  to  return  to  the  firing  line,  and  5%  more  were 
made  fit  for  special  or  limited  military  duty  in  areas  in 
the  rear;  in  the  Civil  War  nearly  half  the  soldiers  were 
out  of  the  war  permanently  after  injury,  and  a  high  per- 
centage were  at  all  times  too  ill  from  disease  to  render  ef- 
ficient service  in  battle.  In  the  Spanish- American  war 
one  man  died  of  gunshot  wounds  to  30  who  died  of  disease. 
(Smart.)"  ^  It  is  hard  to  realize  the  conditions  in  our 
hospitals  before  the  days  of  Pasteur  and  Lister.  Antiseptic 
and  aseptic  surgery  have  banished  hospital  gangrene,  and 
robbed  child-birth  of  much  of  its  terror. 

The  past  few  years  have  seen  a  marked  decrease  in  in- 
dustrial accidents.  This  is  due  to  the  educating  of  em- 
ployer and  employee,  and  to  the  use  of  safer  types  of  ma- 
chinery. Between  1913  and  1917,  the  number  of  fatal  ac- 
cidents in  industry  fell  from  25,000  to  22,000,  an  im- 
provement of  12%  ;  the  number  of  serious  accidents  from 
700,000  to  500,000,  or  29%;  and  minor  accidents,  com- 
pelling absence  from  work  for  six  weeks,  from  300,000 
to  226,000,  or  26%.  Society  as  a  whole  has  made  less 
progress.  Of  the  77,000  fatal  accidents  in  the  U.  S.  Eegis- 
tration  Area  in  1917  (one-seventh  of  these  due  to  violence), 
55,000  were  outside  of  industrial  operations.® 

One  of  the  most  impressive  demonstrations  is  that  from 
the  Panama  Canal  Zone.  The  laborers  on  the  canal  were 
largely  Negroes,  working  outdoors  with  heavy  machinery. 
The  unhealthy  climate  was  balanced  by  an  exceptional 
control  of  conditions  by  the  Army  Medical  Service.    Dur- 

"N.  Am.  Review,  Feb.,  1920. 

'  W.  A.  Evans,  J.  of  Industrial  Hygiene,  1,  397,  1919,  from  whom 
I  quote  also  the  following  figures  from  Dr.  Gorgas.  See  further, 
Wm.  C.  Gorgas,  Sanitation  in  Pa/nama,  1915;  David  S.  Beyer,  In- 
dustrial Aowient  Prevention,  1916. 


122  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

ing  the  first  year  there  was  an  epidemic  of  pneumonia ;  in 
the  second  year  an  increase  of  blasting  and  railroad  work. 

YEAE        EMPLOYEES      DEATH  KATE      DISEASE       ^^TERITAL 


1906  ....  26,547 

41.73 

39.66 

2.07 

1907  ....  39,238 

28.74 

25.44 

4.30 

1908 43,891 

13.01 

8.68 

4.33 

1909  ....  47,167 

10.64 

7.55 

3.09 

1910  ....  50,892 

10.98 

7.50 

3.48 

1911 48,876 

11.02 

7.65 

3.38 

1912  ....  51,852 

9.26 

6.36 

2.81 

1913  ....  56,654 

8.35 

5.24 

3.11 

1914  ....  44,329 

7.04 

4.40 

2.64 

1915  ....  34,785 

5.77 

4.05 

1.72 

1916  33,176 

6.03 

4.58 

1.45 

1917  ....  32,589 

7.09 

5.74 

1.35 

The  unsanitary  conditions  in  the  larger  cities  during 
the  early  part  of  the  Industrial  era  are  almost  unbelievable. 
In  the  London  of  1850,  with  a  population  of  over  two  mil- 
lion, a  third  lived  in  houses  unsupplied  with  water  mains. 
Much  of  the  water  obtainable  was  unfit  for  human  con- 
sumption. The  city  was  seamed  with  open  ditches,  some 
of  them  of  the  most  horrible  description.  Bethnal 
Green  may  be  taken  as  a  sample.  With  33  miles  of  streets 
and  100  miles  of  by-ways,  none  were  paved  and  only  a 
few  miles  sewered.  Slops  were  thrown  from  the  windows, 
the  streets  being  the  common  reservoir  for  refuse,  which 
sometimes  accumulated  in  great  heaps.  Scavenging  was 
entrusted  to  13  decrepit  old  men,  who  took  90  days  to 
complete  a  single  round.  In  the  more  crowded  districts 
of  the  city,  typhus  and  other  fevers  were  constantly  pres- 
ent. The  death  rate  was  23.38  per  thousand.  The  long 
battle  against  "vested  rights  in  filth  and  dirt,"  which  be- 
gan in  1855,  reduced  this  in  50  years  to  17.1,  with  a  fur- 
ther decrease  during  the  present  century. "^ 

The  germs  of  typhoid  fever  and  cholera  are  spread 

*  Henry  Jephson,  Sanitary  Evolution  of  Londcm,  1907;  Havelock 
Ellis,  Problem  of  Race  Regeneration,  1911. 


SHAPING  THE  COUESE  OF  PROVIDENCE    123 

largely  through  the  use  of  water  that  has  been  polluted  by 
sewage.  The  problem  is  being  attacked  at  both  ends.  Sew- 
age can  be  practically  freed  from  bacterial  life,  either  by 
chemical  treatment,  or  by  the  use  of  septic  tanks  or  slow 
filtration,  permitting  the  growth  of  other  types  of  bacteria. 
These  either  destroy  the  harmful  forms  or  so  delay  their 
passage  as  to  give  them  time  to  die  out.  The  same  methods 
are  used  in  the  purification  of  the  water  supply.  In  Al- 
bany, N.  Y.,  where  a  filtration  plan  was  installed  in  1899, 
the  average  annual  death  rate  from  typhoid  was  reduced 
from  104  to  28  per  100,000,  or  73%.  In  Hamburg,  Ger- 
many, where  the  water  supply  was  taken  directly  from 
the  Elbe,  a  cholera  epidemic  in  1892  brought  17,000  cases 
and  8,600  deaths.  The  neighboring  city  of  Altona,  which 
used  the  same  water,  after  additional  contamination  from 
Hamburg  sewage,  had  only  a  few  sporadic  cases  of  the  dis- 
ease, owing  to  the  efficiency  of  its  sand  filter  system.  Ham- 
burg promptly  installed  a  water  filtration  plant,  reducing 
its  annual  death  rate  from  typhoid  by  85%.  And  the  sav- 
ing of  ona  death  from  typhoid  fever,  through  the  use  of 
better  water,  probably  means  the  saving  of  two  to  three 
deaths  from  other  causes.* 

But  pure  water  was  only  a  beginning.  The  increasing 
care  in  handling  milk  and  other  food  products,  owing  to 
the  growth  of  knowledge  and  public  sentiment,  is  reducing 
another  fertile  source  of  disease  transmission.^  There  are 
no  dangerous  bacteria  in  milk  from  healthy  cows  which 
have  been  properly  cared  for.  Pasteurization,  if  done  ac- 
cording to  approved  methods,  is  an  additional  protection, 
and  has  no  injurious  effect  on  the  quality  of  the  milk. 
The  city  of  Kochester,  NT.  Y.,  by  the  establishment  of 

•Marshall's  Microbiology,  1917,  254-288;  C.  V.  Chapin,  Sources 
and  Modes  of  Infection,  2nd  ed.,  1912;  Wm.  T.  Sedgwick,  Prints 
of  Sanitary  Science  and  the  Public  Health,  4th  ed.,  1914;  H.  W. 
Hill,  The  New  Public  Health,  1916. 

•Marshall's  Microbiology,  1917;  M.  J.  Bosenau,  The  MiVc  Ques- 
tion, 1912  J  John  C.  Olsen,  Pwre  Foods,  1911. 


124  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

municipal  milk  stations,  reduced  nearly  one^half  the  deaths 
of  children  under  Scve  years  old. 

Probably  600,000  people  in  the  United  States  still  die 
every  year  from  preventable  diseases.  But  the  advance  in 
sanitary  and  medical  science  is  beginning  to  tell  in  the 
census  figures.  In  the  U.  S.  Kegistration  Area,  between 
1900  and  1917,  the  deaths  from  typhoid  were  reduced  from 
35.9  to  13.4  per  100,000;  diphtheria  from  43.3  to  16.5; 
tuberculosis  from  201.9  to  146.4;  infant  diarrhea  from 
108.8  to  64.  If  we  are  living  in  a  city  of  100,000  people, 
150  individuals  are  alive  today  who,  under  quite  recent 
conditions  would  have  died  last  year  from  these  four 
causes  alone. 

The  most  notable  advance  has  been  in  infant  mortality, 
that  is  of  potential  men  and  women  dying  in  the  first 
year  of  their  life.  As  some  one  has  said,  babies  do  not  die, 
they  are  killed.  In  1910,  about  12Y  out  of  every  thousand 
born  were  deprived  of  the  chance  to  live  and  develop.  For 
some  foreign  countries  the  figures  were  still  higher,  al- 
though a  marked  decrease  was  everywhere  registered  over 
a  period  25  years  earlier.  In  1917,  the  U.  S.  Registra- 
tion Area  showed  a  mortality  rate  of  94,  or  33  more  babies 
saved  out  of  every  thousand.  On  April  6,  1918,  a  Chil- 
dren's Year  was  inaugurated,  partly  as  a  war  measure,  one 
of  the  objectives  being  to  save  the  lives  of  100,000  babies. 
The  results  cannot  be  given  in  statistics.  But  "millions  of 
adults  in  this  country  have  learned  through  the  Weighing 
and  Measuring  tests  alone  that  weight  in  relation  to  height 
and  age  gives  a  rough  index  of  normal  development ;  that 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  children  are  undernourished 
and  suffering  from  other  defects  which  are  preventable  or 
remediable;  that  child  welfare  is,  in  short,  an  important 
national  problem."  ^^  Through  the  Red  Cross  and  other 
agencies,  public  health  nurses  are  being  placed  in  cities 
and  rural  counties,  as  fast  as  trained  workers  can  be  se- 
cured. 

"  Chief,  Children's  Bureau,  Seventh  An,  Report,  1919,  10. 


SHAPING  THE  COURSE  OF  PEOVIDENCE    125 

For  the  unsanitary  conditions  described,  and  the  suffer- 
ing, weakness  and  high  mortality  resulting,  Man  not  God 
must  be  held  responsible.  And  the  remedies  have  been 
due  to  the  cooperation  of  Man  with  God,  along  the  lines 
suggested  in  previous  chapters.  It  is  a  human  prerogative 
and  duty  to  learn  the  laws  of  the  Universe  relating  to 
health  and  safety,  and  the  control  of  its  forces,  physical 
and  organic,  in  the  direction  of  a  better  environment.  But 
this  work  has  been  carried  still  further.  Much  is  being 
done  toward  the  complete  elimination  of  hostile  bacteria. 
No  side  of  Man's  control  of  Providence  is  more  instructive 
and  inspiring. 

Smallpox  has  been  wiped  out  of  Germany,  by  the  thor- 
ough use  of  vaccination.  Only  ignorance  or  prejudice  pre- 
vents us  from  wiping  it  from  the  earth.  The  battle  against 
Tuberculosis,  though  set  back  by  the  War,  may  be  won 
by  the  gradual  education  of  the  people,  and  the  discovery 
and  isolation  of  all  persons  who  act  as  carriers  of  the 
tubercle  bacillus.  It  will  be  a  long  and  expensive  contest, 
but  we  have  learned  the  strategy  by  which  it  must  be 
fought.^*  Malaria,  one  of  the  most  disabling  of  man's 
diseases,  is  being  eliminated  by  immunizing  with  quinine, 
by  screening  windows,  and  by  destroying  the  breeding 
places  of  its  carrier,  the  anopheles  mosquito.  In  Ham- 
burg, Arkansas,  the  number  of  cases  of  malaria,  as  regis- 
tered by  physicians'  calls,  was  reduced  from  2,312  in 
1916  to  59  in  1918.  The  cost  of  the  campaign  per  capita 
was  $1.45  in  1917,  and  the  following  year  only  44  cents. 
Previously  the  town's  annual  doctors'  bills  had  been  eight 
times  the  cost  of  protection  in  1918.  This  does  not  take 
account  of  the  heavy  financial  loss  due  to  the  disease  it- 
self. In  other  words,  it  was  cheaper  to  get  rid  of  malaria 
than  to  have  it.^^ 

I  select  another  example  from  the  world-wide  activities 

"  See  S.  A.  Knopf,  Tuberculosis  a  Preventable  and  Curable  Disease, 
1909. 
"  Rockefeller  Foimdation,  Annual  Report,  1918,  31,  188  ff. 


126  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

of  the  Rockefeller  Foundation.  Yellow  Fever  has  been 
driven  from  a  number  of  its  centers  of  infection,  with  the 
prospect  that  it  will  in  the  near  future  be  eliminated  from 
the  earth.  Attention  in  1918  and  1919  was  directed  to 
Central  America.  A  commission  sent  to  make  a  special 
study  of  the  disease,  succeeded  in  isolating  the  yellow  fever 
organism,  which  hitherto  had  baffled  biologists.  An  epi- 
demic raging  in  Guatemala  led  to  the  assignment  of  Dr. 
Joseph  H.  White,  of  the  Army  Medical  Service,  to  work 
in  cooperation  with  the  Guatemalan  government.  The 
routes  of  infection  were  traced,  rigid  quarantines  enforced, 
and  active  measures  taken  to  destroy  the  sources  of  infec- 
tion. In  less  than  six  months  time.  Dr.  White  was  able  to 
report  that  no  yellow  fever  remained  in  Guatemala. 
Equally  striking  results  were  achieved  at  Guayaquil, 
Ecuador,  which  has  been  known  as  the  pest  hole  of  the 
Pacific.  The  swampy  situation  of  the  town  and  the  utter 
lack  of  sanitation  made  it  a  seed-bed,  not  only  for  yellow 
fever,  but  for  cholera,  smallpox  and  bubonic  plague.  The 
work  begun  in  1916  by  General  Gorgas,  was  resumed  after 
the  War.  The  same  methods  were  followed  that  had 
proved  so  successful  in  Cuba  and  Panama.  A  campaign 
of  education  enlisted  the  support  of  all  classes  of  the  people. 
Modern  water  and  sewerage  systems  were  installed.  The 
streets  were  paved,  and  kept  clean  of  refuse.  Houses  were 
screened,  and  a  thorough  campaign  undertaken  to  destroy 
the  breeding  places  of  the  stegomyia  mosquito,  which  acts 
as  carrier  of  the  disease,  ^o  yellow  fever  appeared  in 
the  summer  of  1919,  and  Dr.  Gorgas  considered  that  the 
sanitary  work  already  completed  was  sufficient  to  prevent 
reinfection.  Human  science  and  enterprise  have  trans- 
formed Guayaquil  from  a  plague  spot  into  one  of  the  safest 
cities  on  the  coast.^^  Work  was  continued  in  other  regions, 
and  by  the  middle  of  November,  1919,  "yellow  fever  had 
been  practically  banished  from  Central  America."  ^^ 

»/d.,  83  ff;  Outlook,  Nov.  26,  1919. 
^Annual  Report,  1919,  19. 


SHAPING  THE  COURSE  OF  PROVIDENCE    127 

Another  aspect  of  Providence,  the  responsibility  for  so- 
cial conditions,  may  be  illustrated  by  Man^s  relation  to 
Prostitution  and  Intemperance.  To  hold  God  responsible 
for  the  harlot  or  the  drunkard  would  be  to  misread  the 
facts  of  the  world.  As  Flexner  puts  it :  "Prostitution  is  a 
modifiable  phenomenon.  .  .  .  According  as  society  prefers, 
there  may  be  more  or  less  of  it"  The  attempts  at  regula- 
tion, through  the  licensing  and  medical  examination  of 
professional  prostitutes,  proved  an  utter  failure,  and  have 
been  abandoned  in  practically  all  European  countries. 
Medical  men  now  realize  that  masculine  immorality  is 
neither  necessary  nor  wholesome.  Experience  shows  that 
exploitation  and  artificial  stimulation  of  the  traffic  can  be 
checked  by  proper  laws,  and  able  and  conscientious  offi- 
cials. Ample  governmental  provisions  may  be  made  for 
the  treatment  and  cure  of  sexual  diseases,  as  in  Norway 
and  Denmark.  From  this  point,  the  problem  becomes  part 
of  the  general  problem  of  social  betterment,  and  the  raising 
of  community  standards.^  ^  We  are  beginning  to  have, 
as  Jane  Addams  says,  a  new  conscience  toward  an  ancient 
evil.  During  the  War,  notable  work  was  done  by  the 
American  government  and  cooperating  agencies,  not  only 
among  the  soldiers,  but  in  war-camp  communities  and 
munition  centers.  Among  the  methods  followed  were  a 
campaign  of  education;  personal  work  with  individuals, 
especially  young  girls ;  provision  for  occupation  and  amuse- 
ment ;  strict  regulations  and  penalties ;  the  prohibition  of 
liquor;  and  medical  treatment. 

Remarkable  progress  has  been  made  in  recent  years  in 
the  battle  against  Alcoholism,  with  the  physical,  moral  and 
economic  losses  that  have  come  in  its  train.  In  America, 
the  organized  sentiment  of  the  Church  on  this  question  has 
been  reinforced  by  a  number  of  powerful  influences. 
Among  these  we  may  enumerate  the  growing  realization 

"Abraham  Flexner,  The  Regulation  of  Prostituticm  in  Europe, 
Am.  Social  Hygiene  Ass'n,  1914;  Jane  Addams,  A  New  Conscience 
and  an  Ancient  Evil,  1912. 


128  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

of  the  economic  factor,  the  stand  taken  against  alcohol  by 
the  medical  profession,  the  apparently  hopeless  corruption 
of  the  liquor  traffic,  the  failure  of  all  attempts  at  regula- 
tion, and  the  success  of  total  prohibition  as  tried  out  by 
various  states  and  cities.  As  Dr.  Mayo  says,  prohibition 
has  been  made  possible  by  the  supply  of  potable  water  now 
almost  universally  available.  The  movement  culminated 
in  the  outlawing  of  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  liquor 
in  the  United  States,  in  the  interest  of  national  efficiency. 
Adopted  as  a  war  measure,  the  policy  was  made  permanent 
in  1919  by  constitutional  amendment  Figures  coming  to 
hand  from  all  sections  of  the  country  indicate  a  marked 
reduction  in  crime,  the  practical  elimination  of  the  city 
tramp,  and  an  increase  in  savings.  The  reduced  popula- 
tion in  public  institutions,  estimated  in  Massachusetts 
alone  as  saving  four  million  dollars  annually,  will  more 
than  pay  the  cost  of  enforcement.  Labor  disturbances 
have  been  singularly  free  from  violence,  and  the  efficiency 
of  labor  has  been  increased,  as  far  as  comparisons  can  be 
made.  Canada  is  largely  on  a  prohibition  basis.  Similar 
movements  are  under  way  in  various  countries  of  northern 
Europe.  By  the  International  Convention,  signed  at  St. 
Germain  in  1919,  liquor  is  prohibited  on  the  entire  Afri- 
can continent,  with  the  exception  of  Algeria,  Tunis,  Egypt 
and  the  Union  of  South  Africa. 

Of  Man's  responsibility  for  famine  and  other  disasters, 
the  most  striking  recent  examples  are  the  feeding  of  Bel- 
gium under  Mr.  Hoover's  administration,^^  and  the  relief 
work  of  the  American  Ked  Cross  during  the  last  half  of 
the  War.  As  one  reads  the  story  of  the  latter  in  the  pages 
of  Mr.  Davison,^"^  one's  growing  horror  of  the  destruction 
and  cruelty  of  man  at  his  worst  is  overshadowed  by  the 
sense  of  man's  power  for  good,  in  cooperating  for  the  relief 
of  distress  and  the  betterment  of  living  conditions.  And  the 

"See  Commission   for  Relief  in   Belgium,   Final  Report,   1917; 
Vernon  Kellogg,  Fighting  Starvation  in  Belgium,  1918. 
"H.  P.  Davison,  The  Ameriown  Red  Cross,  1919. 


SHAPING  THE  COUESE  OF  PEOVIDENCE    129 

means  he  uses,  or  misuses,  are  the  same  Divine  forces  that 
we  have  seen  him  learning  to  know  and  control  in  other 
fields.  Man's  capacity  for  shaping  Providence  appears  to 
be  limited  only  by  his  ability  to  understand  and  work  with 
the  Uni  versa 


PART  III. 
THE  MORALITY  OF  THE  UNIVERSE. 


PAET  III. 

THE  MOKALITY  OF  THE  UNIVEKSE. 
Section.  1.   Individual  Relations. 
XIII. 

THE  PLACE  OF  ALTRUISM. 

Our  study  of  Providence  has  done  more  than  confirm 
the  democratic  character  of  the  Universe,  the  fact  that  Man 
and  God  have  entered  into  contract  for  the  betterment  of 
the  world.  It  has  suggested  that  there  may  be  some  defi- 
nite connection  between  the  success  of  such  altruistic  move- 
ments by  man,  the  party  of  the  first  part,  and  the  character 
of  God,  the  party  of  the  second  part.  Are  goodness  and 
altruism  and  social  responsibility  natural  to  the  Universe  ? 
Do  they  function  in  a  way  that  may  be  considered  normal, 
as  the  Christian  hypothesis  assumes?  Can  we  say  that 
the  Environment  to  which  the  scientist,  the  mechanic,  the 
business  man  and  the  statesman  are  adjusting  their  lives, 
reflects  the  character  which  Jesus  taught  by  word  and  by 
example  ?  This  is  the  final  test  of  Christianity,  which  will 
occupy  our  attention  in  the  remainder  of  the  book. 

Our  task  in  the  present  chapter  is  to  discover  and  ap- 
praise the  Altruism  that  finds  a  place  in  human  society. 
I  use  altruism  in  the  sense  in  which  Jesus  applies  the 
term  "love"  to  God  and  man,  as  covering  primarily  the 
interest  in  and  activity  for  others,  which  we  find  in  a 
social  order,  as  contrasted  with  self-interest  and  individual 
action.     Though  emotion  normally  accompanies  such  ac- 

133 


134  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

tivity  for  others,  many  writers  on  Christianity  have  erred 
in  putting  the  emphasis  on  feeling.  I  do  not  find  this  view 
of  Christian  altruism  home  out  by  Jesus'  teaching,^  and 
my  interpretation  is  confirmed  by  the  rest  of  the  New 
Testament,  notably  Paul's  analysis  in  1  Corinthians  13. 

We  have  first  the  altruism  within  the  Family  group. 
By  far  the  greater  part  of  human  effort  is  for  others  rather 
than  for  self.  The  primary  motive  in  labor  is  the  support 
of  a  family.  Domestic  love  gets  the  world's  work  done. 
It  is  for  wife  and  children  that  the  average  hand-worker 
undergoes  long  hours  of  exhausting  toil.  If  he  demands 
more  wages,  it  is  that  those  he  loves  may  have  more  food  to 
eat,  better  clothes  to  wear,  more  luxuries  and  pleasures. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  clerk,  the  teacher,  the  business  man. 
How  many  of  us  would  work  year  after  year  simply  for 
work's  sake  ?  If  we  save  out  of  our  income,  it  generally  is 
that  our  family  may  be  insured  against  want,  or  that  our 
children  may  be  given  more  education  and  a  better  start 
in  life.  Out  of  these  love-prompted  savings  is  accumulated 
the  world's  capital,  which  turns  the  wheels  of  industry. 
Most  young  people  go  to  work,  either  that  their  parents 
may  be  relieved  of  their  support,  or  because  others  are 
dependent  on  their  earnings.  The  allotment  returns  of 
the  War  Risk  Insurance  Bureau  showed  what  a  large 
proportion  of  our  young  men  were  contributing  to  the  sup- 
port of  parents  or  brothers  or  sisters.  When  a  young  fel- 
low falls  in  love,  he  begins  to  save  for  a  home  the  money 
he  otherwise  would  spend  on  himself.  The  rich  man 
strives  for  further  wealth,  largely  that  he  may  have  more 
to  leave  to  his  children.  Riches  may  not  be  good  for  his 
children,  any  more  than  a  sudden  access  of  luxury  to  the 
laborer's  children.  But  the  motive  in  each  case  is  altru- 
istic. What  appears  to  be  selfish  striving,  turns  out  to  be 
selfishness  for  the  sake  of  others.  The  childless  home  is 
a  home  that  has  lost  its  economic  motive.  The  instinct 
of  acquisition  has  ceased  to  have  any  biological  value. 

*(7/.  later  p.   149. 


THE  PLACE  OF  ALTRUISM  135 

If  the  man  makes  a  home  possible,  the  woman  makes  it 
real.  The  work  of  the  wife  and  mother  is  essentially 
altruistic.  From  the  day  of  her  marriage,  she  lives  for  her 
husband  and  his  needs.  For  love  of  other  lives  that  are  to 
be,  she  endures  the  burden  and  pain  of  child-bearing.  She 
gives  herself  to  her  children  during  the  years  of  helpless 
infancy,  and  the  equally  exacting  years  of  childhood.  She 
nurses  them  in  sickness.  She  starves  herself  if  need  be, 
that  they  may  have  food.  She  lives  in  their  lives,  and 
believes  in  them  though  they  were  'Ranged  on  the  highest 
hill."  Many  women,  like  many  men,  are  unworthy  of 
marriage.  The  spread  of  lu-^airy  has  doubtless  proved  an 
undermining  influence  in  the  home.  But  the  fact  that 
10%  of  American  marriages  end  in  divorce,  only  serves 
to  bring  out  in  sharper  contrast  the  90%  which  do  not. 

This  labor  for  those  they  love  brings  direct  returns  to 
the  individuals.  What  a  man  gives  up  for  the  sake  of  a 
home,  he  receives  back  in  love,  in  comfort,  in  new  inter- 
ests, in  the  gratification  of  more  unselfish  ambitions.  A 
mother  finds  her  life  by  losing  it.  The  responsibilities  of 
a  home  teach  steadiness,  frugality,  patience,  self-sacrifice. 
By  no  conceivable  change  in  human  nature  could  free 
love  or  marital  communism  or  polygamy  ever  produce  as 
efficient  members  of  the  social  order.  Our  Western  civili- 
zation has  been  built  up  on  the  idealism  of  the  monogamous 
family. 

I  pass  to  the  altruism  of  wider  groups,  involving  other 
centripetal  instincts.  The  Church  is  essentially  an  altru- 
istic enterprise.  The  compulsion  to  membership  is  social. 
The  individual  seeks  salvation  through  the  group.  Or  he 
finds  in  the  church  organization  a  channel  for  the  expres- 
sion of  his  altruistic  feelings,  and  an  outlet  for  his  benevo- 
lence, a  means  for  realizing  a  better  social  order.  He 
feels  the  inspiration  of  common  ideals.  And  because  of 
this,  he  gives  time  and  money  to  the  church.  In  return 
for  such  effort  for  others,  he  receives  dividends  in  inward 
satisfaction,  in  the  training  of  character,  in  the  improve- 


130  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

ment  of  social  conditions,  in  the  fraternal  solidarity  of  tlie 
membership,  in  the  knowledge  that  his  fellow  members  will 
stand  behind  him  in  case  of  need.  The  hold  of  this  altru- 
istic movement  on  American  life  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
nearly  45  million  persons  are  directly  affiliated  with  it. 
They  have  been  contributing  annually  over  328  million 
dollars  for  its  support,  and  probably  an  equal  amount  to 
its  work  for  those  outside  the  membership.  Freed  from 
any  entangling  alliance  with  the  State,  the  Church  in 
America  has  been  second  only  to  the  Family  as  a  force  for 
making  efficient  and  dependable  men  and  women.  The 
return  to  Jesus'  teaching,  in  its  emphasis  on  social  service 
as  well  as  individual  salvation,  is  giving  it  a  new  position 
of  leadership  in  industrial  and  national  relations. 

Fraternal  organizations  have  taken  a  strong  hold  on 
the  people  of  our  country.  The  merely  social  orders,  like 
the  Masons  and  Odd  Fellows,  number  nearly  19  million 
members.  This  does  not  include  the  college  and  school 
fraternities,  or  societies  among  the  Negroes.  In  the  typi- 
cal lodge,  the  sense  of  mutual  obligation  is  strongly  culti- 
vated. A  member  recognizes  the  brothers  of  his  order  by 
badges,  grips  and  signs,  and  is  expected  to  render  them 
practical  support  and  aid.  He  can  count  on  such  assis- 
tance in  return.  In  time  of  sickness,  his  comrades  visit 
him  and  minister  to  his  comfort.  In  1869  the  Ancient 
Order  of  United  Workmen  added  the  insurance  feature. 
The  various  benefit  orders,  of  which  200  are  listed  in  the 
Fraternal  Monitor  for  1920,  number  123,431  lodges  and 
9,218,101  members.  The  habit  of  joining  lodges  has  led  to 
considerable  overlapping.  The  total  insurance  in  force  is 
over  10  billion  dollars,  and  $3,263,800,928  has  been  paid 
by  the  various  societies  in  death  or  sickness  benefits  since 
their  organization.  The  advantage  to  the  individual  from 
this  type  of  altruism,  is  obvious.  Whether  in  sympathetic 
aid  or  in  insurance  protection,  he  receives  quid  pro  quo. 

As  our  next  example  I  take  the  Labor  Union.  In  modern 
Industry  the  isolated  worker,  unless  commanding  special- 


THE  PLACE  OF  ALTRUISM  137 

ized  skill,  has  been  at  a  serious  disadvantage.  From  this 
fact  has  grown  the  organized  labor  movement,  which  in- 
cludes nearly  ^ve  million  men,  or  a  third  of  those  en- 
gaged in  manufacturing,  transportation  and  mechanical 
labor,  besides  a  considerable  number  of  women.  Over  4 
million  are  affiliated  with  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor.  The  expressed  aim  of  this  organization  has  been 
to  secure,  through  collective  bargaining,  a  fair  share  in  the 
partnership  between  labor  and  capital.  Although  the  ad- 
vantage of  solidarity  would  appear  to  be  self-evident,  it 
has  not  been  won  without  a  hard  struggle  with  human 
nature.  The  instinct  of  imjnediate  self-interest  (or  fam- 
ily interest)  is  so  strong,  especially  in  a  time  of  labor 
surplus,  that  it  requires  a  strong  sense  of  altruism  for  the 
worker  to  seek  advantage  through  the  group,  rather  than 
by  securing  and  holding  the  best  job  he  can  obtain  alone. 
This  sense  of  common  interest  has  been  learned  only 
through  experience.  One  of  the  most  instructive  instances 
is  the  history  of  the  men's  garment  trades,  largely  carried 
on  by  Jewish  immigrants  from  Russia  and  Austria.  The 
work  was  done  in  sweat-shops,  under  the  most  unsanitary 
conditions.  Workers  were  underpaid  and  subjected  to  a 
great  deal  of  petty  tyranny.  In  1888,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  the  Socialist  intellectuals  in  New  York,  an  organi- 
zation was  formed  of  the  United  Hebrew  Trades,  and 
15,000  Jewish  tailors  won  a  strike  for  better  conditions. 
Lack  of  experience  and  education,  and  the  constant  influx 
of  new  immigrants  from  various  countries  of  Europe,  made 
it  difficult  to  consolidate  the  advances.  The  organization 
of  workers  was  likely  to  fall  apart  as  soon  as  their  fight 
was  won.  In  1910  the  men's  clothing  workers  were  able 
to  muster  100,000  for  a  general  strike.  In  1915  the 
Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers  of  America,  a  secession 
from  the  American  Federation  of  Labor,  won  its  strike  in 
"New  York.  Although  the  bitter  struggle  in  Chicago  was 
lost,  it  led  four  years  later  to  the  partnership  agreement 
in  the  clothing  industry,  signed  between  the  employers 


138  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

and  the  workers,  now  practically  100  per  cent  organized. 
The  sweat-shop  has  practically  disappeared.  From  being 
the  most  oppressed  and  degraded,  the  men's  garment  work- 
ers have  become  perhaps  the  best  paid  of  any  semi-skilled 
labor  group,  and  under  the  best  working  conditions.  The 
educational  work  required  to  weld  the  trade  into  a  united 
body,  working  and  often  sacrificing  heavily  for  common 
ends,  will  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  the  official  papers  of 
the  Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers  are  published  in  Eng- 
lish, Yiddish,  Italian,  Polish,  Bohemian  and  Lithuanian.^ 

The  altruism  of  the  labor  movement  has  a  wider  aspect. 
The  growing  group  consciousness  of  hand  workers  as  a 
whole  finds  frequent  expression  in  the  moral  and  financial 
support  given  by  one  union  organization  to  another,  and 
in  sympathetic  strikes.  Some  of  the  latter  may  have  been 
quixotic  and  ill-judged.  But  it  is  certainly  a  remarkable 
example  of  altruism  when  a  body  of  workers  gives  a  part 
of  their  earnings,  and  even  surrenders  their  jobs  without 
any  assurance  of  regaining  them,  in  order  to  aid  the 
struggle  of  another  body  of  workers,  perhaps  in  a  different 
trade  or  hundreds  of  miles  away.  This  sense  of  class  soli- 
darity in  the  workers  of  today,  the  widespread  passion  for 
justice,  democracy  and  brotherhood,  as  far  as  these  affect 
their  group,  might  almost  be  termed  a  religion.  It  is 
idealism  of  the  highest  order,  the  struggle  for  others  rather 
than  merely  for  self.  But  whatever  advantage  was  gained 
by  the  sympathetic  strike,  was  in  the  end  reciprocal.  If 
you  helped  the  man  of  another  trade  in  his  battle,  he  would 
be  likely  to  help  you  in  your  battle.  An  advance  in  one 
field  of  labor  made  it  easier  to  secure  advances  all  along 
the  line.  In  a  later  chapter  it  may  be  necessary  to  appraise 
the  labor  union  movement  from  the  standpoint  of  society 
as  a  whole.  I  am  merely  describing  it  here  in  relation 
to  the  individual  trade  unionist,  as  an  example  of  the 
change  from  individual  to  group  action,  or  as  we  might  put 
it,  from  family  to  social  altruism. 

^  A  more  detailed  study  of  this  movement  will  be  found  on  p.  224. 


THE  PLACE  OF  ALTRUISM  139 

Patriotism  is  the  broadest  of  the  altruistic  interests 
which  we  shall  consider.  In  normal  times  it  is  little  in 
evidence.  Except  for  spasms  of  community  betterment, 
and  the  passions  and  enthusiasms  called  out  by  recurring 
elections,  the  average  citizen  appears  satisfied  to  go  about 
his  business  or  his  pleasure,  leaving  the  politicians  to  run 
the  government.  It  is  the  same  the  world  over.  A  few 
years  ago,  one  wondered  whether  the  progress  of  civiliza- 
tion had  destroyed  the  idealism,  the  devotion  and  courage 
of  the  race.  But  those  who  looked  deeper,  realized  that 
this  apathy  to  higher  interests  was  in  appearance  only. 
The  things  men  are  ready  to  die  for  are  the  things  they 
really  value.  Some  may  risk  their  lives  in  pleasure.  They 
enjoy  the  thrill  of  excitement  and  danger  in  automobile 
racing  or  aviation  feats.  But  no  one  would  go  into  an 
aeroplane  trial  if  he  knew  he  would  be  killed.  Men  risk 
their  lives  in  business :  to  secure  big  wages,  to  reap  large 
dividends.  But  you  could  not  hire  a  man  to  kill  himself. 
If  I  may  use  the  paradox,  people  all  over  the  world  were 
living  for  the  things  men  will  not  die  for. 

But  suddenly  their  nations  became  involved  in  war,  in 
what  they  believed  was  a  necessary  and  righteous  struggle. 
And  there  was  revealed  to  us  the  idealism  that  is  latent 
in  ordinary  men  and  women,  the  love  of  country  which  it 
needs  only  a  great  crisis  to  call  forth.  Never  has  there 
been  a  war  with  so  few  cowards  or  so  few  laggards.  !N"ever 
before,  in  the  world's  long  history,  have  so  many  offered 
their  lives  for  an  ideal.  Of  the  work  of  the  American 
soldier  I  need  not  speak.  Only  the  sudden  ending  of  the 
war  prevented  him  from  matching  in  quantity  as  he  did  in 
quality  the  sacrifice  of  England  and  her  colonies,  of  Bel- 
gium, of  France  and  Italy,  of  Kussia  and  Serbia  and 
Eoumania.  Modern  wars  are  wars  of  peoples,  not  of 
armies  alone.  In  my  work  with  the  home  organization  of 
the  Eed  Cross,  I  had  occasion  to  become  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  half  the  counties  of  one  state.  On  my  mind 
is  left  an  indelible  composite  picture  of  the  American  com- 


140  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

munity.  The  universal  and  largely  spontaneous  organiza- 
tion for  public  service.  Leading  business  men  giving  up 
their  business,  often  for  months  at  a  time,  to  devote  them- 
selves to  patriotic  enterprises.  The  repeated  drives  for 
money,  and  the  unvarying  enthusiasm  of  the  response. 
Women  knitting  everywhere.  The  work  room  with  its 
humming  sewing  machines,  and  the  piles  of  completed 
socks  and  hospital  garments.  The  white-robed  workers  on 
surgical  dressings,  folding  in  mystic  silence  the  endless 
yards  of  gauze.  Food  conservation,  each  household  cor- 
recting its  habits  of  waste,  and  cheerfully  altering  its  diet, 
that  the  soldiers  and  workmen  of  the  Allies  might  be  fed. 
Even  the  children  sewing,  and  gathering  salvage,  and 
planting  war  gardens,  and  saving  their  money  for  thrift 
stamps,  and  stinting  themselves  on  sugar.  The  organized 
neighborliness  of  the  Eed  Cross  home  service,  caring  for 
the  soldiers'  families  in  every  need.  The  canteens  at  the 
railway  junctions,  serving  coffee  and  sandwiches  to  train- 
loads  of  men  in  khaki,  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night. 
For  two  years  the  average  American  community  was  on  an 
altruistic  basis,  finding  its  joy  in  the  service  of  a  common 
cause  rather  than  in  the  service  of  self. 

The  real  point  in  this  familiar  picture  which  is  framed 
in  our  memories,  is  the  fact  that  social  altruism,  the  co- 
operation of  the  individual  in  the  national  cause,  was  an 
advantage  to  the  individual.  The  American  nation  en- 
tered the  War,  because  it  had  suddenly  and  rather  tardily 
become  convinced  that  its  own  safety  and  the  perpetuation 
of  its  institutions  was  at  stake.  And  the  military  victory, 
which  secured  these  vital  ends,  was  made  possible  by  the 
patriotism  and  team  work  of  the  people  at  home.  What 
upset  Germany's  calculations,  and  sent  an  irresistible 
stream  of  men  and  supplies  across  the  Atlantic,  was  the 
public  support  of  our  government.  This  was  registered  in 
the  adoption  and  smooth  working  of  the  selective  draft, 
the  saving  of  concentrated  foods,  the  increased  production 
on  American  farms,  the  supplies  made  by  the  women,  the 


THE  PLACE  OF  ALTRUISM  141 

mobilization  for  shipbuilding  and  munition  making.  Loy- 
alty and  cooperation  brought  the  result  for  which  the  indi- 
vidual was  striving,  and  on  which  his  well-being  depended. 
The  tide  of  idealism  ebbed  rapidly  after  the  War.  But 
there  can  be  no  question  that  a  similar  crisis  would  bring 
the  same  popular  response.  And  the  patriotism  of  the 
citizen  in  critical  periods  is  an  index  of  the  advantage  he 
finds  in  the  normal  operations  of  his  government.  Men 
cooperate  as  a  nation  because  they  realize  that  it  pays  to 
cooperate.  The  feeling  of  bitterness  toward  the  revolu- 
tionist is  an  instinct  of  self-preservation. 

This  list  of  altruistic  enterprises  is  not  intended  to  be 
exhaustive.  I  have  merely  selected,  from  a  single  country, 
the  more  prominent  examples  of  a  certain  type,  which  illus- 
trate the  principle  of  a  direct  return  to  the  individual  from 
the  altruism  which  he  shows  within  the  organization.  It  is 
evident  that  sympathy  and  cooperation  rank  with,  and 
perhaps  surpass,  selfishness,  as  motives  in  the  everyday 
life  of  man. 

Both  Biology  and  Sociology  bear  witness  to  the  same 
fact.  We  have  begun  to  recover  from  the  one-sided  empha- 
sis on  the  struggle  for  existence.  Such  conscious  struggle 
as  we  find  in  the  lower  organisms  is  largely  for  the  sake 
of  offspring ;  it  is  sacrificial  rather  than  self-assertive.  In 
general  the  strongest  animal  groups  are  those  which  have 
developed  the  instincts  of  mutual  aid,  and  to  some  extent 
of  affection  and  sympathy.  Cooperating  animals  were 
able  to  secure  a  better  food  supply  and  better  protection. 
We  see  this  in  the  ants  and  bees,  in  migratory  birds,  in 
the  ungulates,  rodents,  and  ruminants.  The  only  notable 
exceptions  among  the  Mammals  are  some  species  of  car- 
nivora,  which  were  strong  enough  to  live  without  mutual 
protection.  Association  tended  to  develop  intelligence. 
The  higher  apes  are  exceedingly  gregarious;  they  hunt 
and  fight  together,  communicating  by  rude  sounds.  The 
current  view  is  that  man's  most  distinctive  feature,  a  de- 
veloped speech  mechanism,  grew  out  of  the  social  habits 


142  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

of  his  immediate  ancestors.  Modem  studies  in  Anthro- 
pology indicate  that  the  earliest  human  races  lived  in 
groups  of  considerable  size,  that  is  in  societies  rather  than 
in  isolated  families.  Cooperation  and  loyalty,  which  were 
purely  instinctive  in  the  lower  animals,  were  taught  to 
the  human  child  along  with  other  accumulated  experiences 
of  the  clan.  But  the  instincts  were  there,  as  part  of  the 
child's  inherited  brain  mechanism.  All  that  was  necessary 
was  to  reinforce  them  and  direct  their  expression. 

Idealism  is  not  an  exotic  in  human  life.  The  practice 
of  altruism  is  necessary  if  an  organized  body  of  men  is 
to  survive.  Within  any  social  group,  sympathy  and 
mutual  aid  are  a  normal  condition;  selfish  individualism 
is  abnormal. 


XIV. 

THE  HIGHER  SELFISHNESS. 

The  social  phenomenon  we  have  been  describing,  which 
might  be  termed  group  altruism,  brings  an  evident  advan- 
tage to  the  individual  members  of  the  group.  All  social 
and  political  organization  is  based  on  this  fact.  It  pays 
the  individual  to  consider  the  interest  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  group.  Jesus  broadens  the  principle  to  cover 
society  as  a  whole.  He  expands  the  group  into  a  world. 
The  obligations  of  a  churchman  to  his  fellow  members 
should  be  extended  to  the  entire  community,  Samaritan 
and  Gentile  as  well  as  Jew.  The  strength  of  family,  fra- 
ternity, guild  or  nation,  shows  the  possibilities  in  a  broth- 
erhood that  will  include  men  of  every  race  and  class. 
Jesus  enjoins  such  consideration  for  the  interest  of  all 
other  persons  without  distinction,  as  we  give  to  our  own 
interest  or  that  of  our  group,  and  predicts  the  same  reflex 
advantage.  The  Universe  is  arranged  on  that  plan.  Such 
an  attitude  is  a  condition  of  successful  adjustment. 

Is  this  true  ?  Does  the  Christian  theory  work  in  actual 
practice?  A  first  superficial  view  of  the  field  gives  a 
negative  answer.  The  selfish  and  vicious  man  often  suc- 
ceeds in  business,  where,  apparently  with  equal  ability 
and  opportunity,  the  just  and  considerate  man  fails,  when 
he  strives  for  a  common  objective.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
selfish  corporation  or  nation.  This  fact  has  puzzled  both 
Jewish  and  Christian  thought,  and  led  many  to  assume 
that  moral  retribution  must  be  evened  up  in  the  future  life. 
The  later  readjustment  of  rewards  may  prove  to  be  a  fact. 
But  to  rest  on  such  an  assumption  is  to  deny  the  essentially 

143 


144  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

moral  character  of  the  present  world.  This  is  also  true 
if  we  fall  back  on  the  statement  that  the  considerate  and 
righteous  man  gains  more  real  satisfaction  out  of  life. 
Inward  joy  may  be  a  better  criterion  of  success  than 
material  prosperity ;  many  deliberately  turn  their  back  on 
the  latter  in  order  to  retain  the  former.  But  if  the  good 
men  have  all  the  joy,  while  the  bad  men  have  all  the  pros- 
perity, we  can  hardly  call  the  world  Christian.  Under 
those  conditions,  the  great  majority  of  people,  at  least  in 
our  Western  civilization,  would  go  after  the  prosperity. 
Jesus  teaches  no  bargain  counter  ethics.  But  his  theory 
demands  that,  in  the  long  run,  the  good  man  should  not 
only  have  more  satisfaction,  but  that  he  also  shall  be  more 
successful  in  earning  a  living,  in  doing  the  work  of  the 
world,  in  striving  for  those  natural  and  legitimate  rewards 
which  offer  themselves  in  human  society. 

Our  previous  discussion  should  give  us  a  better  perspec- 
tive in  viewing  man's  adjustment  to  the  Universe.  Such 
an  adjustment  we  have  seen  to  be  many-sided.  The  moral 
phase  which  we  are  now  considering  is  only  the  conclud- 
ing chapter  of  the  story.  Practical  success  may  be  due  to 
a  more  religious  attitude,  a  closer  communion  and  co- 
operation with  God,  along  some  special  line  of  human 
activity.  It  may  represent  a  more  complete  adjustment 
in  physical  labor,  in  the  knowledge  of  plants  and  animals, 
or  in  the  field  of  health  or  of  mental  activity.  If  God  is 
present  and  active  in  all  the  extra-human  Universe,  re- 
ligion is  as  broad  as  life  itself.  In  running  a  lathe,  re- 
ligion consists  in  getting  the  most  out  of  the  material.  In 
farming  it  is  shown  in  the  care  taken  of  one's  cows  or 
fruit  trees.  The  bad  man  who  succeeds  may  be  found  to 
have  more  physical  stamina.  Or  he  has  been  in  closer 
communion  with  God  in  the  mental  field.  He  has  applied 
himself  more  faithfully,  made  better  use  of  his  mental 
resources,  followed  more  successfully  the  psychological 
laws  that  lie  at  the  root  of  business.  The  same  may  be 
true  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  an  army.    From  a  moral 


THE  HIGHER  SELFISHNESS  145 

point  of  view,  the  German  armies  at  the  beginning  of  the 
War  were  behaving  very  badly.  And  yet  they  won  vic- 
tories, because  they  had  complied  with  the  other  condi- 
tions which  make  for  success.  Complete  adjustment  in  any 
line  is  bound  to  bring  results.    The  Universe  plays  fair. 

The  question  before  us  therefore  should  be  put  in  this 
form.  Granting  not  only  equal  ability  and  opportunity, 
but  equal  health  and  equal  mental  responsiveness,  and 
compliance  with  the  conditions  that  make  for  success  in 
the  non-moral  field,  do  consideration  and  character  prove 
an  advantage  ?  Do  they  appear  in  the  Universe  as  business 
assets  ?  Does  the  Christian  theory  as  to  the  character  of 
God  and  the  consequent  obligations  of  a  man  to  his  fellow 
men,  produce  more  efficient  members  of  the  social  order? 
In  this  and  the  following  chapters  we  consider  the  indi- 
vidual, taking  up  later  the  economic  system  and  the  life  of 
nations. 

The  practical  value  of  consideration  and  courtesy  has 
been  discovered  by  many  people.  As  a  general  rule  of  life, 
it  will  approve  itself  to  any  one  who  cares  to  put  it  to  the 
test.  I  have  only  to  watch  my  own  nursery  to  see  a  cari- 
cature of  the  doctrine  that  you  gain  what  you  fight  for. 
Perhaps  the  child  does  get  the  plaything  he  fights  for.  But 
he  loses  more  than  he  gains.  He  cuts  himself  off  from 
other  playthings  and  common  games  which  a  more  gener- 
ous attitude  would  have  secured.  Jesus  was  right  in  say- 
ing that  in  our  treatment  of  others,  in  the  ordinary  inter- 
course of  life,  we  reap  what  we  sow. 

A  single  example  will  suffice.  James  Freeman  Clarke 
has  left  a  description  of  a  stage-coach  journey  from  Bos- 
ton to  Kentucky,  in  1833.  Their  route  lay  through  the 
Cattaraugus  woods,  where  the  mud  and  rough  corduroy 
made  travelling  extremely  uncomfortable.  There  was 
every  temptation  to  be  cross.  One  man,  however,  so  en- 
livened the  company  and  was  so  good-natured  and  accom- 
modating, that  the  other  occupants  of  the  stage-coach  took 
the  same  tone.    Instead  of  a  disagreeable  journey,  they 


146  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

felt,  as  he  says,  as  if  they  were  having  a  pleasant  picnic. 
Mr.  Clarke,  being  a  man  of  sense,  adopted  this  as  a  method 
of  heightening  his  own  enjoyment  on  the  rest  of  the  trip. 
As  soon  as  they  took  their  places  in  the  coach,  he  would 
show  an  interest  in  the  other  passengers  and  their  com- 
fort. If  they  preferred  his  seat  to  their  own,  he  would 
offer  to  change  places.  Such  attentions  had  the  desired 
result.  He  found  that  his  companions  would  almost  always 
follow  his  lead,  and  take  pains  to  be  polite  and  accommo- 
dating.^ 

So  great  is  the  value  of  consideration,  from  a  selfish 
standpoint,  that  it  has  actually  been  capitalized  by  modem 
business  men.  Until  the  last  half  of  the  19th  century, 
retail  trade  in  the  United  States  was  on  the  basis  of  catch- 
who-catch-can,  as  is  still  the  case  in  many  of  the  smaller 
towns  of  Europe,  and  everywhere  in  the  Orient.  The 
store-keeper  looked  on  the  customer  as  his  victim.  Stores 
were  dark  and  prices  were  not  plainly  marked.  The  sales- 
man charged  the  highest  prices  the  customer  would  pay. 
If  a  poorer  quality  of  goods  could  be  substituted,  it  was 
considered  legitimate  to  do  so.  To  escape  from  a  store 
without  buying  was  a  difficult  matter,  and  might  subject 
one  to  considerable  rudeness.  When  John  Wanamaker,  in 
1861,  introduced  into  Oak  Hall  in  Philadelphia  the  idea 
of  "but  one  price  and  that  plainly  marked,"  it  meant  the 
beginning  of  a  revolution  in  the  attitude  of  a  store-keeper 
toward  the  public.  Courtesy  was  required  of  all  employees. 
Ten  years  later,  on  opening  the  great  store  at  Tenth  and 
Market  streets,  he  announced  that  any  purchasers  who 
were  not  satisfied  with  their  goods  could  have  their  money 
refunded.  People  were  invited  to  come  to  the  store  even 
if  they  had  no  intention  of  buying.  Special  efforts  were 
made  for  their  comfort.  The  store  was  to  be  considered, 
not  merely  as  a  shopping  center,  but  as  a  place  to  rest  or 
to  meet  one's  friends.  To  the  older  business  men  in 
Philadelphia,  such  methods  seemed  suicidal.    They  under- 

»E.  E.  Hale,  Jameg  Freenum  Clarke,  1891,  59. 


THE  HIGHER  SELFISHNESS  147 

mined  what  had  always  been  considered  the  foundation 
principle  of  retail  trade.  But  the  doctrine  of  considera- 
tion for  others  proved  so  much  more  successful  than  the 
doctrine  of  selfishness,  that  stores  all  over  the  country- 
were  obliged  to  revolutionize  their  methods.  "Modern 
storekeeping  is  no  longer  a  horse-trading  business  or  a 
peddler^s  dickering.  It  is  a  serious  business,  cleanly  and 
honestly  conducted.  It  is  finding  a  market  for  and  dia- 
tributing  the  world's  merchandise."  ^ 

The  past  twenty  years  have  confirmed  the  statement 
given  by  Wanamaker  himself  as  to  the  relation  between 
seller  and  buyer  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  modem 
business  evolution.  The  growth  of  retail  business  has  been 
based  solely  on  public  service.  The  ambition  of  the  mod- 
em retailer  is  to  give  the  best  merchandise  at  the  least 
cost.  While  he  cannot  control  the  cost  of  production,  he 
can  modify  the  cost  of  distribution  and  his  own  margin 
of  profit.  His  working  principle  is  the  minimum  of  profit 
that  will  create  the  maximum  of  business.  Any  combina- 
tion between  rival  firms  would  raise  prices,  diminish  sales, 
and  reduce  the  net  return  to  the  store-keeper.  Such  con- 
trol of  the  retail  trade  as  is  attainable,  rests  entirely  on 
superior  service  and  lower  prices.  Popularity,  founded 
tipon  actual  worth,  is  its  sole  power  to  command.^ 

That  the  same  attitude  toward  the  public  is  being 
adopted  by  large  corporations  is  seen  from  the  statement 
by  Judge  Gary  for  the  United  States  Steel  Corporation: 
"There  is  developing  and  becoming  fixed  in  our  companies 
at  least,  all  along  the  line,  a  determination  to  conduct  af- 
fairs in  such  a  way  that  we  will  not  cause  injury  to  any- 
body, and,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  will  benefit  everybody 
affected  by  us;  and  that  includes  fair  and  decent  and 
honest  treatment  of  our  employees,  our  stockholders,  our 
competitors  in  business,  our  customers,  and  the  general 
public,  because  we  believe  it  is  not  only  good  policy  from 

^Golden  Book  of  the  Wanamaker  Stores,  1911,  180. 

*  Evol»  of  Mercantile  Business,  Am.  Acad,  of  Pol.  Scl.,  1900,  part  3. 


148  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

the  standpoint  of  pecuniary  success,  but  because  we  believe 
it  is  right"  ^  One  item  of  this  program,  that  relating  to 
the  employees,  one  might  wish  to  refer  to  the  Interchurch 
World  Movement  But  how  distant  and  barbaric  sounds 
the  statement  of  corporation  policy  from  the  last  genera- 
tion :  "The  public  be  damned !"  On  the  peaceful  dissolu- 
tion of  the  meat-packing  combination,  in  the  same  year, 
the  statement  was  made  by  the  packers  that  heretofore 
they  had  conducted  their  business  upon  the  basis  of 
economics  and  legality,  but  that  now  they  had  taken  ao- 
count  of  the  goodwill  of  the  public.^ 

Is  consideration  for  others  really  self-interest?  This 
undoubtedly  is  the  view  taken  by  Jesus.  He  considers 
himself  to  be  formulating  a  law  of  human  society.  The 
selfish  man  is  the  unsocial  and  abnormal  man.  Recog- 
nition of  common  interest  in  all  our  relations  means  the 
socializing  of  the  individual.  It  completes  the  process 
already  begun  within  the  group.  Because  of  the  mutuality 
of  interest  in  any  community,  because  the  goodwill  of 
those  with  whom  we  are  dealing  is  such  a  valuable  asset, 
it  is  to  a  man's  advantage  to  promote  the  interest  of  others. 

The  question  might  be  raised,  whether  one  can  show 
goodwill  without  first  feeling  it  as  a  motive.  I  must  leave 
the  solution  of  this  problem  to  the  psychological  analyst 
with  his  questionnaires.  My  own  impression  is  that  the 
two  things  go  together.  In  most  cases  the  feeling  of  good- 
will comes  first  The  practice  of  consideration  by  Ameri- 
can and  European  storekeepers  is  due  to  what  Kidd  calls 
the  "fund  of  altruistic  feeling''  generated  by  Christianity, 
of  which  I  shall  speak  in  a  moment  On  the  other  hand 
it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  adopt  the  policy  of  considera- 
tion for  purely  selfish  reasons.  But  in  this  case  the  prac- 
tical consideration  of  others'  interests  invariably  tends  to 
generate  the  spirit  of  goodwill  in  the  man  who  adopts 
such  a  policy.    He  has  put  himself  in  line  with  a  higher 

*  Outlook,  Aug.  23,  1914. 
"N.  r.  Times,  Dec.  18,  1919. 


THE  HIGHER  SELFISHNESS  149 

law,  a  law  of  the  Universe  that  is  written  into  the  very 
structure  of  human  society.  Action  in  accordance  with 
that  law  brings  a  definite  moral  reaction.  The  acceptance 
of  brotherhood  for  practical  reasons,  releases  Divine  forces 
making  for  brotherhood. 

The  value  of  Jesus  as  an  ethical  teacher  is  that  he  takes 
human  nature  as  he  finds  it.  He  deals  with  actual  rather 
than  ideal  conditions.  There  has  been  a  somewhat  gen- 
eral impression  that  his  "Kingdom"  is  a  Utopia,  requiring 
perfect  men,  actuated  by  purely  altruistic  motives.  I  can- 
not find  evidence  for  this  in  his  teaching.  However  desir- 
able the  feeling  of  goodwill  and  fraternity,  it  is  something 
that  must  be  caught  rather  than  commanded.  Selfishness 
of  the  narrow  sort  ought  to  be  exorcised.  But  meanwhile 
it  can  be  held  in  abeyance,  or  turned  to  practical  account. 
Self-assertion  and  acquisitiveness,  when  properly  disci- 
plined, are  of  immense  social  value.  The  "love''  empha- 
sized by  Jesus,  according  to  our  Greek  translation  of  his 
teachings,  is  a  word  meaning  admiration  or  esteem,  rather 
than  the  commoner  word  for  emotion.  We  are  not  bid- 
den to  feel  affection  for  the  patron  of  our  store,  for  our 
competitor,  or  for  our  enemy,  but  to  esteem  him,  to  do  him 
good,  to  admit  him  into  the  group  where  we  recognize  com- 
mon and  mutual  interests.  This  is  a  rule  that  any  one 
may  apply.  A  single  individual  can  begin  to  build  around 
himself  a  kingdom  of  goodwill.  Christian  ethics  are  on 
an  experimental  basis.  The  real  proof  of  Christianity  is 
the  fact  that  it  works. 

One  of  the  fundamental  tests  of  any  theory  involving 
human  relations  is  the  pragmatic  one  of  its  effect  on  the 
individual.  A  view  of  the  Universe  which  makes  men 
more  social  and  efficient,  will  tend  to  prove  that  such  a 
view  conforms  to  actual  working  conditions.  The  prin- 
ciple of  common  interest  has  won  slow  and  as  yet  only 
partial  recognition.  In  a  ready-made  or  mechanical  Uni- 
verse, this  fact  would  militate  against  its  altruistic  char- 
acter.   Thus  Le  Dantec  scoffs  at  social  habits  of  mind  as 


150  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

"mental  deformations,"  because  of  their  late  development, 
and  the  fact  that  thej  have  not  been  able  to  modify  very 
deeply  the  primitive  selfish  nature  of  man.^  But  social 
habits  of  mind  are  acquired  characters.  And  the  best  scien- 
tific evidence  is  that  acquired  characters  are  not  inherited. 
Apart  from  civilized  training,  man  is  today  what  he  always 
has  been,  a  savage  animal.  At  the  same  time  the  human 
species  is  essentially  gregarious.  In  the  social  history  of 
the  race,  as  we  showed  at  the  end  of  the  last  chapter,  the 
selfish  man  is  the  unsocialized  and  incomplete  man.  Just 
as  the  child  is  born  selfish  and  gradually  learns  to  live  in 
a  society.  It  is  not  a  question  of  acquiring  new  instincts, 
but  of  bringing  certain  centrifugal  instincts  into  subordina- 
tion to  centripetal  ones.  The  fact  brought  out  in  the  pres- 
ent chapter,  that  man  becomes  more  efficient  as  he  grows 
more  altruistic,  shows  that  he  is  becoming  more  com- 
pletely adjusted  to  the  Universe.  What  is  abnormal  on 
Le  Dantec's  theory,  becomes  normal  on  Jesus'  theory.  The 
slow  acquirement  of  social  as  contrasted  with  group  altru- 
ism, is  exactly  what  we  should  expect  in  a  Universe  which 
requires  for  its  completion  the  help  of  many  generations 
of  men.  The  character  of  the  Environment  to  which  men 
are  adjusting  their  lives  will  show  more  clearly  as  the 
process  goes  forward.  For  an  analogy  we  may  take  the 
science  of  electrical  engineering.  Through  our  improved 
machinery  for  developing  and  controlling  a  current,  we 
know  vastly  more  about  electricity  than  could  be  learned 
through  the  rubbing  of  amber  or  Franklin's  kite.  But 
there  is  more  electrical  potential  in  the  physical  universe 
than  we  are  yet  able  to  harness.  Our  knowledge  of  social 
laws  and  forces  is  similar.  The  world  is  only  beginning  to 
realize  the  possibilities  which  lie  in  goodwill. 

In  the  ethical  history  of  the  race,  the  most  notable  fact 
is  the  influence  of  the  Christian  idea  of  God,  itself  Oriental 
in  origin,  on  the  civilization  of  the  West.  Lecky  has  thus 
summarized  the  effect  of  Christianity  in  the  Koman  Em- 

•  Felix  le  Dantec,  L'egoisme  seule  hose  de  toute  societS,  1911. 


THE  HIGHER  SELFISHNESS  151 

pire:  "The  high  conception  that  has  heen  formed  of  the 
sanctity  of  human  life,  the  protection  of  infancy,  the  eleva- 
tion and  final  emancipation  of  the  slave  classes,  the  sup- 
pression of  barbarous  games,  the  creation  of  a  vast  and 
multifarious  organization  of  charity,  and  the  education  of 
the  imagination  by  the  Christian  type,  constitute  together  a 
movement  of  philanthropy  which  has  never  been  paral- 
leled or  approached  in  the  Pagan  world."  "^ 

In  the  world  today  the  same  contrast  may  be  noted  be- 
tween the  sympathy  for  others  in  Christian  lands,  and  the 
relative  callousness  of  countries  untouched  by  Christianity. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  give  in  detail  the  various  philan- 
thropic activities  found  in  our  Western  civilization.  Care 
for  the  orphan,  the  blind,  the  insane,  the  poor,  at  first  a 
matter  of  private  charity  alone,  has  become  a  common  re- 
sponsibility and  a  recognized  function  of  the  State.  Pity 
for  the  needy,  help  for  the  man  who  is  down,  has  come  to  be 
almost  second  nature  with  us.  So  strongly  has  considera- 
tion for  human  need  become  embodied  in  modern  charity, 
that  it  is  almost  inconceivable  that  a  stranger  fallen  among 
thieves  and  left  stripped  and  wounded,  should  be  passed  by 
on  the  other  side.  Where  at  the  beginning  of  the  Chris- 
tian era  men  drew  the  doctrine  of  human  brotherhood  from 
the  character  of  God,  as  revealed  by  Jesus,  today  we  are 
beginning  to  infer  the  character  of  God  from  the  fact  of 
brotherhood.® 

Another  important  aspect  of  the  growth  of  social  altru- 
ism is  the  movement  toward  Democracy.^    The  emancipa- 

"  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  Hist,  of  Eur.  Morals,  1869,  II,  107. 

'Jn.  E.  le  Bosquet,  The  Modern  Man's  Religion,  Harvard  Theol. 
Review,  7,  97,  1914. 

•Suggestive  material  on  this  subject  will  be  found  in  Jas.  Bryce, 
Modem  Democracies,  1920;  Wm.  R.  Thayer,  Democracy :  Discipline: 
Peace,  1919;  Arthur  T.  Hadley,  The  Moral  Basis  of  Democracy, 
1919;  John  R.  Commons,  Races  and  Immigrants,  1907,  chap. 
1,  Race  a/nd  Democracy ;  Walter  E.  Weyl,  The  New  Democracy,  1912; 
Walter  Lippmann,  Drift  and  Mastery,  1914;  Herbert  Croly,  Pro- 
gressive Democracy,  1914;  Graham  Wallas,  The  Great  Society,  1914; 
Harold  J.  Laski,  Democracy  at  the  Crossroads,  Yale  Review,  9,  788, 
July,  1920. 


153  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

tion  and  self-assertion  of  subject  classes  has  been  accom- 
panied by  the  increasing  readiness  of  men  to  trust  each 
other.  Thus  the  democracy  of  small  homogeneous  groups, 
like  the  English  town  and  county,  or  the  city  guild,  has 
been  extended  to  cover  the  relations  of  many  groups  within 
a  larger  unit  Local  self-government  grows  into  the  demo- 
cratic colony  or  state.  Politically,  this  has  meant  the  ex- 
tension of  the  franchise,  the  growth  of  the  representative 
principle,  and  the  recognized  power  of  the  people,  by 
majority  vote,  to  manage  and  change  their  government. 
Socially,  it  shows  itself  in  universal  education,  and  the 
demand  for  equality  of  opportunity.  The  industrial  phase, 
which  will  be  considered  in  a  later  section,  is  the  demand 
for  some  measure  of  control  by  groups  of  workers  over 
the  industry  in  which  they  are  engaged.  Democracy,  in 
any  of  these  aspects,  is  a  movement  rather  than  a  fixed 
state,  and  hence  not  easy  to  define.  We  may  regard  it  as  a 
point  of  view:  the  habit  of  looking  at  all  social  questions 
from  the  standpoint  of  Society  as  a  whole,  rather  than 
of  some  limited  but  powerful  class.  It  is  an  ideal  of 
human  relationships,  which  would  recognize  the  inherent 
capabilities  of  manhood,  and  the  duty  of  mutual  trust, 
support  and  esteem. 


XV, 

CHARACTEB  AS  AN  ASSET. 

Jesus'  system  of  Ethics  is  surprisingly  simple.  He 
does  not,  like  other  ethical  teachers,  base  moral  obliga- 
tion on  tradition  or  authority,  on  an  innate  sense  of  right 
or  wrong,  or  on  some  abstract  principle.  His  treatment 
is  essentially  biological,  a  statement  of  man's  necessary 
relation  to  his  Environment.  Christ  assumes  that  we  are 
living  in  the  closest  possible  relations  with  a  righteous 
and  loving  God,  and  that  we  are  cooperating  with  Him  and 
widi  our  fellow  men  in  an  unfolding  social  order.  From 
human  life  as  we  know  it,  he  draws  certain  general  laws 
of  conduct  that  will  fit  this  assumption. 

To  state  this  position  a  little  more  fully,  the  individual 
man  is  a  biological  unit.  He  is  not  self-existent  or  seK- 
sufficient.  He  cannot  live  in  isolation.  It  is  necessary  for 
him  to  adjust  his  life  to  other  human  units,  and  to  the 
Universe  itself.  If  the  Universe  reflects  a  moral  and 
altruistic  God,  the  same  qualities  are  required  both  for  a 
complete  development  of  the  individual  man,  and  for  nor- 
mal social  relations.  Man  is  not  bidden  to  be  righteous 
and  considerate  because  God  has  so  commanded,  but  be- 
cause a  full  adjustment  of  man  to  his  Environment  cannot 
be  secured  on  any  other  basis.  The  laws  of  Ethics  are  like 
the  laws  of  Mechanics,  or  the  laws  of  Agriculture,  or  the 
laws  of  Health  or  Providence.  They  represent  the  neces- 
sary cooperation  between  Man  and  God  in  a  personal  and 
social  order. 

Our  interest  in  this  book  is  not  in  expounding  Jesus' 
ethical  principles,  as  outlined  in  our  first  chapter,  but  in 

153 


154  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

testing  the  assumption  whicli  underlies  them.  If  the 
relation  of  man  to  the  Universe  is  that  of  a  distinct  and 
cooperating  unit,  as  our  earlier  treatment  seems  to  show,^ 
and  Jesus  has  given  a  correct  interpretation  of  the  charac- 
ter of  God,  we  should  expect  moral  cooperation  with  such 
a  God  to  release  helpful  moral  forces.  In  the  last  chapter 
we  gained  a  certain  confirmation  of  one  part  of  Jesua' 
statement.  Consideration  and  goodwill  have  a  practical 
value,  not  only  within  the  local  group,  but  in  society  at 
large.  They  function  in  the  way  that  his  theory  calls  for. 
Let  us  now  apply  the  same  test  to  moral  integrity.  Do 
honesty  and  justice,  responsibility  and  self-control,  prove 
of  practical  value,  imder  the  conditions  which  the  Universe 
lays  down? 

The  value  to  the  individual  and  to  society  of  that  dis- 
ciplining of  primitive  instincts  which  we  describe  as  self- 
control,  is  so  evident  that  we  need  spend  little  time  upon 
it.  We  have  already  noted  the  growing  recognition  of  in- 
temperance as  an  economic  and  social  handicap,  and  the 
steps  taken  to  check  this  evil.  The  social  value  of  sexual 
purity  was  suggested  in  our  chapter  on  the  Making  of 
Man.^  Anger  and  other  violent  emotions  are  detrimental 
not  only  to  health  but  to  general  efficiency,  even  when  they 
fall  short  of  injury  to  another's  property  or  person.  In 
our  study  of  industrial  and  national  relations,  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  note  the  danger,  from  the  point  of  view 
of  Society,  of  unchecked  greed  and  domination,  which  are 
merely  the  rank  growth  of  the  natural  instincts  of  pos- 
session and  self-assertion. 

It  has  become  almost  a  commonplace  in  our  Western  Civ- 
ilization to  demand  justice  of  all  persons,  in  all  relations. 
The  sense  of  injustice  is  one  of  the  most  potent  factors  in 
creating  friction  between  employer  and  employee,  and  in 
depreciating  the  value  of  the  human  factor  in  production. 
In  other  words,  just  dealing,  in  fact  and  in  appearance, 

*  Chapters  7  to  12. 
'  See  ante,  p.  68. 


CHARACTER  AS  AN  ASSET  155 

is  an  asset  in  the  account  of  any  industrial  plant.  The 
importance  which  Society  attaches  to  just  dealings  between 
man  and  man,  lies  at  the  basis  of  our  system  of  Law.  In 
the  words  of  the  Magna  Carta :  "To  no  one  will  we  sell,  to 
no  one  will  we  refuse  or  delay,  right  or  justice.'' 

Failure  to  reach  this  high  ideal  must  be  attributed  not 
to  sentiment  but  to  the  inadequacy  of  legal  and  court  ma- 
chinery. The  impossibility  of  knowing  the  law  in  all  its 
changing  intricacy,  the  delays  and  expense  of  legal  con- 
tests, have  made  it  diiHcult  for  the  poor  man  to  secure 
justice.  Here  again  has  been  a  fruitful  source  of  social 
friction.  A  case  is  on  record  where  a  judgment  for  ten 
dollars  in  favor  of  a  wage-earner  was  appealed  and  post- 
poned for  a  year  and  nine  months,  and  required  the  plain- 
tiff to  spend  eleven  days  in  court,  in  addition  to  his  at- 
torney's fees.  This  intolerable  situation  is  being  remedied 
by  the  establishment  of  Small  Claims  Courts,  where  law- 
yers are  not  permitted.  In  Cleveland,  Ohio,  the  total 
costs  to  the  plaintiff  are  52  cents;  in  1915,  5106  cases 
were  tried,  and  judgments  given  to  an  amount  of 
$32,872.14.  In  a  number  of  American  cities,  public  de- 
fenders are  appointed  to  represent  the  accused,  thus  elimi- 
nating the  jail  lawyer,  and  reducing  the  length  of  the 
trials,  in  Los  Angeles  from  a  total  of  239  days  to  58 
days.^ 

I  pass  to  the  consideration  of  a  virtue  whose  survival 
value  may  be  more  open  to  question,  that  is  Honesty.  Any 
one  familiar  with  business  knows  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  dishonesty  in  factory  products  which  cannot  be 
accounted  for  by  faulty  inspection.  Such  a  policy  is 
clearly  short-sighted.  An  employee  who  is  encouraged  to 
cheat  the  firm's  customers,  is  likely  to  take  a  similar 
advantage  of  the  firm.  The  attempt  to  pass  off  shoddy, 
short  weight  or  careless  workmanship,  will  in  the  long  run 
react  on  the  seller.     An  example  on  a  large  scale  is  the 

'  Reginald  H.  Smith,  Justice  and  the  PooTy  1919.  See  also  Everett 
V.  Abbot,  Ju»tice  and  the  Modem  Law,  1913. 


156  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

boycott  against  goods  from  a  certain  country  instituted 
by  Australia  in  1919,  because  of  the  commercial  untrust- 
wortbiness  of  the  merchants  from  that  country  with  whom 
they  were  dealing.  The  working  of  this  principle  in  retail 
trade  was  considered  in  our  last  chapter.  Permanent  suc- 
cess requires  the  building  up  of  a  reputation  for  quality 
and  fair  dealing.  Pride  in  the  firm's  product  is  an  im- 
portant element  in  quality  production.  We  have  reached 
a  point  in  Industry  where  honor  in  trade  is  a  definite  asset, 
and  dishonesty  a  serious  handicap.  The  man  who  makes 
money  dishonestly  is  really  trading  on  the  general  com- 
munity standard  of  honesty  and  service.  Even  the  adver- 
tiser has  come  to  realize  that  there  is  a  commercial  value 
in  telling  the  truth. 

An  interesting  recognition  of  this  principle  is  found  in 
the  Rotary  Club  movement,  an  organization  of  representa- 
tive business  and  professional  men  in  various  cities.  Its 
Code  of  Ethics  is  as  follows : 

First — To  consider  my  vocation  worthy,  and  as  affording 
me  distinct  opportunity  to  serve  society. 

Second — To  improve  myself,  increase  my  efficiency  and 
enlarge  my  service,  and  by  so  doing  attest  my  faith  in  the 
fundamental  principle  of  Eotary  that  he  profits  most  who 
serves  best. 

Third — To  realize  that  I  am  a  business  man  and  ambitious 
to  succeed;  but  that  I  am  first  an  ethical  man,  and  wish 
no  success  that  is  not  founded  on  the  highest  justice  and 
morality. 

Fourth — To  hol^  that  the  exchange  of  my  goods,  my  serv- 
ice and  my  ideas  for  profit  is  legitimate  and  ethical,  pro- 
vided that  all  parties  in  the  exchange  are  benefited  thereby. 

Fifth — To  use  my  best  endeavors  to  elevate  the  standards 
of  the  vocation  in  which  I  am  engaged,  and  so  to  conduct 
my  affairs  that  others  in  my  vocation  may  find  it  wise, 
profitable  and  conducive  to  happiness  to  emulate  my  example. 

Sixth — To  conduct  my  business  in  such  a  manner  that  I 
may  give  a  perfect  service  equal  to  or  even  better  than  my 


CHAKACTEE  AS  AN  ASSET  157    ^ 

competitor,  and  when  in  doubt  to  give  added  service  beyond 
the  strict  measure  of  debt  or  obligation. 

Seventh — 'To  understand  that  one  of  the  greatest  assets 
of  a  professional  or  of  a  business  man  is  his  friends,  and 
that  any  advantage  gained  by  reason  of  friendship  is  emi- 
nently ethical  and  proper. 

Eighth — To  hold  that  true  friends  demand  nothing  of 
one  another,  and  that  any  abuse  of  the  confidences  of  friend- 
ship for  profit  is  foreign  to  the  spirit  of  Kotary,  and  in  viola- 
tion of  its  Code  of  Ethics. 

Ninth — To  consider  no  personal  success  legitimate  or  eth- 
ical which  is  secured  by  taking  unfair  advantage  of  certain 
opportunities  in  the  social  order  that  are  absolutely  denied 
others,  nor  will  I  take  advantage  of  opportunities  to  achieve 
material  success  that  others  will  not  take  because  of  the  ques- 
tionable morality  involved. 

Tenth — To  be  not  more  obligated  to  a  Brother  Eotarian 
than  I  am  to  every  other  man  in  human  society ;  because  the 
genius  of  Rotary  is  not  in  its  competition  but  in  its  co- 
operation; for  provincialism  can  never  have  a  place  in  an 
institution  like  Rotary,  and  Rotarians  assert  that  human 
rights  are  not  confined  to  Rotary  Clubs  but  are  as  deep  and 
as  broad  as  the  race  itself;  and  for  these  high  purposes  does 
Rotary  exist  to  educate  all  men  and  all  institutions. 

Eleventh — Finally,  believing  in  the  universality  of  the 
Golden  Rule — All  things  whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  unto  them — ^we  contend 
that  Society  best  holds  together  when  equal  opportunity  is 
accorded  all  men  in  the  natural  resources  of  this  planet. 

Honesty  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  modem  system  of 
Credit.  How  general  today  is  the  assumption  of  integrity 
and  fair  dealing  will  be  realized  if  we  stop  to  consider  the 
amount  of  business  done  on  trust,  from  the  grocer  who 
allows  a  wage-earner  to  run  an  account  until  pay  day,  to 
the  bank  which  grants  its  depositor  a  loan  on  only  his  per- 
sonal security,  or  gives  hard  cash  in  exchange  for  commer- 
cial paper,  perhaps  from  the  other  side  of  the  world.  The 
people  of  the  United  States,  in  1913,  exchanged  goods 


158  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

to  the  amount  of  $173,000,000,000  by  the  use  of 
checks.* 

In  the  granting  of  private  credit,  the  primary  considera- 
tion is  the  character  of  the  applicant.  "A  man  without 
wealth  or  apparent  ability  to  pay  may  receive  credit  if  it  is 
known  that  he  is  honest,  that  he  treats  his  financial  obliga- 
tions very  seriously,  that  he  would  be  willing  to  do  almost 
anything  than  to  fail  to  pay  his  debts.  Such  a  person 
may  enjoy  excellent  credit  whereas  one  of  considerable 
wealth  but  who  is  slow  in  making  payments,  may  not  have 
good  credit."  ^ 

This  principle  finds  an  interesting  application  in  the 
Morris  Plan  banks,  originated  by  Arthur  J.  Morris,  of 
N"orfolk,  Virginia,  and  now  found  in  over  a  hundred 
cities.  Loans  are  made  on  notes  endorsed  by  two  other 
persons,  the  three  parties  being  accepted  simply  on  the 
basis  of  approved  honesty  and  earning  capacity.  Inter- 
est is  charged  at  6  per  cent,  the  first  year's  interest  being 
deducted  from  the  loan,  and  the  principal  repaid  in  weekly 
installments.  For  a  small  additional  sum  the  loan  is  in- 
sured against  the  death  of  the  borrower.  There  are  no 
depositors,  the  necessary  capital  being  secured  largely 
through  the  sale  of  loan  certificates.  The  losses  in  ten 
years'  time  have  been  less  than  one-tenth  of  one  per  cent. 
As  a  substitute  for  the  loan-shark  the  plan  has  proved  of 
inestimable  value. 

The  procedure  in  mercantile  credit  is  very  similar  to 
that  in  private  banking.  It  pays  the  business  man,  just 
as  it  pays  the  private  citizen,  to  be  honest.  Nothing  is 
guarded  more  jealously  by  the  progressive  merchant  than 
his  reputation  for  honesty  and  promptness  in  meeting  his 
obligations,  for  on  this  depends  his  credit  rating  and  the 
terms  he  is  able  to  secure.  As  the  losses  sustained  on  credit 
systems  must  be  charged  up  to  the  honest  borrowers,  a 

*J.  L.  Laughlin,  Credit  of  the  Naticyns,  1918,  11. 
"  James  E.  Hagerty,  Mercantile  Credit,  1913,  79.    See  also  Wm.  A. 
Prendergast,  Credit  and  its  Uses,  1906. 


CHARACTER  AS  AN  ASSET  159 

raising  of  the  general  level  of  honesty  is  to  the  advantage 
of  society  at  large. 

The  credit  man  takes  account  of  the  character  of  the 
community.  If  there  have  been  many  dishonest  failures 
in  the  town,  it  is  evidence  of  a  low  moral  tone.  Public 
opinion  has  failed  to  ostracize  the  men  who  have  easy 
standards  of  business  honor.  Those  living  in  such  a  com- 
munity are  either  refused  credit  or  charged  a  higher  rate. 
In  other  words,  it  pays  to  live  in  an  honest  town.* 

American  farmers  are  beginning  to  follow  the  lead  of 
Europe  and  organize  cooperative  societies,  where  indi- 
vidual credit  is  pooled  for  the  benefit  of  the  membership, 
in  order  that  producers  without  capital  may  secure  loans 
at  a  reasonable  rate.  Since  the  membership  as  a  whole  is 
liable  for  the  amount  of  the  loans,  the  honesty  of  each 
member  becomes  a  social  responsibility.'^ 

Joseph  W.  Koe,  in  an  address  before  the  Society  of 
Industrial  Engineers,  Oct.  29,  1919,  gave  the  results  of 
a  circular  letter  sent  to  a  number  of  leaders  in  the  pro- 
fession, asking  them  to  state  what  they  considered  the 
most  important  factors  in  determining  success  or  failure 
in  engineering.  Answers  were  received  from  1500  engi- 
neers. Their  estimate  of  the  relative  importance  of  quali- 
ties was  tabulated  as  follows : 

Character    41.0% 

Judgment  , 17.5 

Efficiency 14.5 

Understanding  of  men 14.0  87% 

Knowledge  of  fundamentals 7.0 

Technique 6.0  13% 

100% 

A  second  letter,  to  members  of  the  four  Engineering 
Societies,  brought  similar  results.     Out  of  7000  replies, 

'Hagerty,  op,  cit.,  99. 

'  Jas.  B.  Morman,  Prints  of  Rural  Credit,  1915;  Henry  B.  WolflF, 
People's  Banks,  3rd  ed.,  1910. 


160  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

94.5%  put  the  character  group  first,  and  knowledge  and 
technique  last.  The  rating  of  qualities  could  be  calculated 
thus: 

Character   24.0% 

Judgment    19.5 

Efficiency 16.5 

Understanding  of  men  15.0  75% 

Knowledge  of  fundamentals 15.0 

Technique    10.0  25% 

100% 

If  purity,  justice,  honesty,  and  all  the  other  elements 
which  make  up  strength  of  character,  are  so  important 
from  a  social  standpoint,  our  interest  shifts  to  the  problem 
of  their  attainment.  Character  does  not  grow  on  trees. 
It  does  not  spring  up  spontaneously  and  universally,  as 
the  natural  evolution  of  animal  instincts,  or  as  the  fruit- 
age in  human  life  of  a  Moral  Absolute.  It  is  not  inherited. 
It  is  not  taught,  in  the  sense  that  reading  and  arithmetic 
are  taught.  Character  is  an  art,  which  must  be  learned 
by  the  individual  through  constant  practice.  It  is  a  spirit 
that  is  caught  from  example.  It  is  an  achievement,  which 
grows  out  of  a  constant  struggle  to  control  our  emotions, 
and  direct  them  into  useful  channels.  It  is  a  sort  of  social 
equilibrium  which  the  child  must  learn,  just  as  he  must 
learn  to  balance  himself  in  walking. 

In  the  accomplishment  of  this  self -discipline,  the  three 
chief  means  have  been  Custom,  Education  and  Keligion. 
Community  standards,  as  voiced  by  public  opinion,  and 
registered  in  law,  have  been  a  powerful  agency  for  en- 
forcing moral  conformity.  This  influence  has  been  both 
passive  and  active.  The  moral  force  of  association  is  very 
strong.  A  man  naturally  tends  to  do  what  the  group  is 
doing,  to  hate  what  the  group  hates,  and  admire  what  the 
group  admires.  To  feel  himself  different  from  his  fellows 
is  a  heavier  cross  than  the  ordinary  person  can  bear.    He 


CHARACTER  AS  AN  ASSET  161 

makes  every  effort  to  earn  the  reward  of  praise,  rather  than 
incur  the  penalty  of  blame.  But  Society  goes  very  much 
farther  than  this.  No  tribe  could  exist  if,  within  its 
membership,  murder,  robbery  and  treachery  were  common. 
The  self -discipline  of  the  individual  is  a  part  of  the  self- 
preservation  of  society.  To  enforce  loyalty,  respect  for  life 
and  property,  and  the  other  virtues  which  are  necessary 
for  its  preservation  and  strength,  the  group  uses  the 
weapons  of  fines,  physical  punishment,  death  or  banish- 
ment. The  immoral  man  becomes  an  outlaw,  cut  off  from 
the  assistance  and  protection  of  the  tribe.  The  military 
state  and  the  industrial  nation  develop  their  own  codes  of 
ethics,  and  enforce  them  by  such  means  as  they  deem 
effective. 

I  use  Education  in  the  broad  sense,  as  including  the 
philosophy  and  literature  that  help  to  shape  ethical  stand- 
ards, and  the  influences  noted  in  an  earlier  chapter  which 
go  into  the  training  of  children  and  youth.  As  civiliza- 
tion advances  the  school  is  used  to  supplement  the  educa- 
tional work  of  the  home.  Mere  knowledge  is  not  sufficient 
for  ethical  training.  The  great  advance  in  general  intel- 
ligence registered  in  the  past  hundred  years,  has  not  in 
itself  made  the  race  more  moral.  Some  instruction  in 
ethical  principles  is  possible.  Examples  of  noble  character 
may  be  held  before  the  children  as  ideals.  But  the  chief 
contribution  of  the  school  has  been  along  the  line  of  dis- 
cipline. Educators  attach  increasing  importance  to  the 
foundations  of  character  building  which  may  be  laid 
through  required  work,  both  mental  and  manual,  habits 
of  regularity,  promptness,  accuracy  and  obedience,  the 
spirit  of  truthfulness  and  honor,  the  practice  of  team-work 
and  self-government,  and  the  expression  of  patriotism. 

But  the  strongest  influence  in  character  building  has 
undoubtedly  been  Eeligion.  From  the  dawn  of  history, 
the  function  of  religion  has  been  to  throw  higher  sanc- 
tions around  conmiunity  standards,  and  awaken  an  emo- 
tional response.    Fear  of  taboo,  the  need  of  ensuring  the 


162  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

cooperation  of  the  tribal  god,  gave  to  the  regulations  of 
custom  a  ten-fold  strength.  The  institutional  side  of  re- 
ligion is  essentially  conservative.  But  the  great  religious 
teachers  have  been  unconscious  revolutionists,  helping  to 
mold  the  ideas  that  underlie  customs  and  institutions. 
Jesus,  like  the  Hebrew  prophets,  represents  the  Universe 
as  a  moral  order,  whose  Thou  Shalt  and  Thou  Shalt  N'ot 
are  neglected  at  our  peril.  And  the  peril  and  benefit  are 
immediate  and  practical,  rather  than  the  fear  of  future 
punishment  or  the  hope  of  paradise.  The  God  of  whom 
Jesus  speaks  is  present,  not  distant;  just,  not  capricious; 
an  altruistic  rather  than  an  autocratic  Being,  ready  to  co- 
operate with  man  in  all  his  moral  struggle.  In  other 
words,  man's  self -discipline  is  not  against  E'ature,  but  with 
N'ature.  Man  is  adjusting  himself  to  a  moral  Environ- 
ment, a  righteous  and  loving  God,  whose  laws,  vaguely 
recognized  in  tribal  and  national  standards,  the  Master 
restates  in  simple  but  definite  terms. 

It  would  be  hard  to  overestimate  the  importance  of 
Jesus'  contribution  to  ethical  theory  and  to  character  build- 
ing. It  is  a  fact  of  observation  that  Christ's  doctrine  of 
God  has  tended  to  make  men  more  moral.  The  idea  of 
Divine  love  and  cooperation  has  brought  out  latent  quali- 
ties, and  made  self-conquest  possible.  JSTatural  human 
emotions,  which  if  left  to  run  wild  are  dangerous  to  society, 
have  not  been  suppressed,  but  controlled  and  disciplined.* 
The  individual  has  learned  to  become  temperate,  poised, 
responsible,  efficient,  considerate,  social. 

Many  examples  might  be  given  of  this  ethical  effect  of 
Christianity.  Begbie,  in  his  study  of  the  work  of  the  Sal- 
vation Army  in  West  London,  cites  case  after  case  where 
a  degenerate  outcast  has  become  a  normal  and  hard-working 
member  of  society.^  Less  sensational,  but  equally  valuable, 
is  the  change  wrought  in  the  period  of  adolescence,  either 

'  Cf.  Edwin  B.  Holt,  The  Freudian  Wish  <md  its  Place  in  Ethics, 
1916. 
•Harold  B^bie,  Twice-Born  Men,  1909. 


CHARACTER  AS  AN  ASSET  163 

through  conversion  or  the  quieter  process  of  religious  edu- 
cation.^^ 

I  give  a  single  case  from  the  remarkable  altruistic 
movement  of  Foreign  Missions,  which  aims  to  raise  back- 
ward peoples  to  the  level  of  the  highest  Christian  civiliza- 
tion. The  one  I  have  chosen  is  Mary  Slessor's  account  of 
seven  years'  work  with  the  Okoyong  of  Nigeria,  whose 
fierceness  and  cruelty  had  made  them  the  terror  of  the 
Calabar  region.  "We  do  not  attempt  to  give  in  numbers 
those  who  are  nominally  Christian.  ...  Of  results  as 
affecting  the  condition  and  conduct  of  our  people  generally, 
it  is  more  easy  to  speak.  Raiding,  plundering,  the  stealing 
of  slaves,  have  almost  entirely  ceased.  Any  person  from 
any  place  can  come  now  for  trade  or  pleasure,  and  stay 
wherever  they  choose,  their  persons  and  property  being 
as  safe  as  at  Calabar.  For  fully  a  year  we  have  heard  of 
nothing  like  violence  from  even  the  most  backward  of  our 
people.  ...  As  their  intercourse  with  the  white  men  in- 
creased through  trade  or  otherwise,  they  found  that  to  sub- 
mit to  his  authority  did  not  mean  loss  of  liberty  but  the 
opposite,  and  gradually  their  objections  cleared  away,  till 
in  1894  they  formally  met  and  bound  themselves  to  some 
extent  by  treaty  with  the  Consul.  Again,  later,  our  con- 
siderate, patient,  tactful  Governor,  Sir  Claude  Macdonald, 
met  them,  and  at  that  interview  the  last  objection  was 
removed,  and  they  promised  unconditional  surrender  of 
the  old  laws  which  were  based  on  unrighteousness  and 
cruelty,  and  cordial  acceptance  of  the  just  and,  as  they 
called  it,  'clean'  code  which  he  proffered  them  in  return. 
Since  then  he  has  proclaimed  them  a  free  people  in  every 
respect  among  neighboring  tribes,  and  so,  placing  them 
on  their  honour,  so  to  speak,  has  made  out  of  the  roughest 
material  a  lot  of  self-respecting  men  who  conduct  their 

*"See  Edwin  D.  Starbuck,  Psychology  of  Religion,  1899;  Geo.  A. 
Coe,  The  Spiritital  Life,  1900;  Edward  S.  Ames,  Psychol,  of  Relig. 
Experience,  1910;  Jas.  B.  Pratt,  Psychol,  of  Relig.  Belief,  1908;  The 
Relig,  Consciousness,  1920. 


164  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

business  in  a  fashion  from  wliicli  Europeans  might  take 
lessons.  .  .  .  E'o  tribe  was  formerly  so  feared  because  of 
their  utter  disregard  of  human  life,  but  human  life  is  now 
safe.  No  chief  ever  died  without  the  sacrifice  of  many 
lives,  but  this  custom  has  now  ceased.  .  .  .  With  regard  to 
infanticide  and  twin-murder  we  can  speak  hopefully  .  .  . 
there  has  dawned  on  them  the  fact  that  life  is  worth  saving, 
even  at  the  risk  of  one's  own.  .  .  .  Drinking,  especially 
among  the  women,  is  on  the  decrease.  The  old  bands  of 
roving  women  who  came  to  us  at  first  are  now  only  a 
memory  and  a  name.  The  women  still  drink,  but  it  is  at 
home  where  the  husband  can  keep  them  in  check.  .  .  . 
They  are  eager  for  education.  Instead  of  the  apathy  and 
incredulous  laugh  which  the  mention  of  the  Word  for- 
merly brought,  the  cry  from  all  parts  is  for  teachers ;  and 
there  is  a  disposition  to  be  friendly  to  any  one  who  will 
help  them  toward  a  higher  plane  of  living."  ^  ^ 

These  results  which  have  come  in  the  lives  of  men,  when- 
ever they  have  acted  on  Jesus'  assumption  of  a  righteous 
and  cooperating  God,  tend  to  confirm  this  theory  of  the 
moral  order  of  the  Universe.  That  the  assumption  is  not 
merely  subjective,  is  shown  by  the  evidence  we  have  gath- 
ered as  to  the  place  of  character  in  human  society,  by  the 
fact  that,  contrary  to  Huxley,  it  has  a  survival  value. 
Freud's  studies  in  mental  pathology  have  shown  the  ab- 
normal states  resulting  both  from  the  suppression  of  im- 
pulse, and  from  the  lack  of  proper  direction  and  control. 
To  be  completely  normal  is  to  be  virtuous  and  wise. 
Taking  the  Universe  as  a  whole,  in  its  relation  to  Man, 
righteousness  would  appear  to  have  cosmic  sanction. 

From  Jesus'  biological  standpoint,  the  deterioration  of 
character  under  any  given  conditions,  for  example  in  ex- 
treme luxury  or  poverty,  in  despotism  or  license,  may  be 
taken  as  some  indication  of  the  moral  or  immoral  nature 
of  the  conditions,  that  is  of  the  degree  of  their  conformity 
to  the  laws  of  the  Universe.    Such  deterioration  is  a  warn- 

**W.  P.  Livingstone,  Mary  Slessor  of  Calabar,  7th  ed.,  1916. 


CHARACTER  AS  AN  ASSET  165 

ing  that  the  conditions  should  be  corrected  by  the  indi- 
vidual or  by  Society. 

It  seems  necessary  to  take  up  an  objection  to  the  moral 
character  of  the  Universe  which  some  readers  have  doubt- 
less raised  at  various  points  in  our  book.  I  refer  to  the 
presence  of  poisons,  fire,  storms,  harmful  bacteria,  etc. 
Though  increasingly  under  man's  control,  these  agencies 
have  not  been  under  such  control  until  the  last  hundred 
years,  and  still  do  immense  and  in  many  cases  unescap- 
able  damage.  I  take  up  the  question  with  reluctance.  Not 
because  it  is  difficult  to  answer,  but  because  it  is  hard  for 
me  to  treat  it  seriously.  One  who  holds  to  Jesus'  idea  of 
an  incomplete  and  cooperative  creation,  is  accustomed  to 
take  the  world  as  he  finds  it,  and  work  with  God  to  make 
it  safer  and  more  complete.  He  is  inclined  to  be  impatient 
with  any  other  attitude.  Why  should  we  call  fire  moral 
when  it  cooks  our  food,  and  immoral  when  it  bums  us? 
Is  a  volcano  righteous  when  it  replenishes  our  supply  of 
carbon  dioxide,  and  unrighteous  when  it  buries  man  under 
its  lava  flow  ?  Is  an  albumin  good  when  it  takes  the  form 
of  white  of  egg,  and  evil  when  it  appears  as  serpent's 
venom?  Is  it  ethical  for  certain  bacteria  to  serve  as  a 
useful  food  supply  for  other  organisms,  and  unethical  for 
the  same  bacteria  to  generate  toxins  in  human  blood  ?  The 
terms  of  Ethics  are  social  terms,  and  have  no  meaning 
outside  of  the  field  of  social  relations.  Moral  laws  are 
the  laws  of  God's  behavior  in  the  social  order,  just  as 
physical  laws  are  the  laws  of  His  behavior  in  the  physical 
order.  In  either  case  our  business  is  not  to  criticize  them 
but  to  adjust  ourselves  to  them. 

To  refer  to  another  phase  of  the  question,  Mr.  H.  G. 
Wells,  in  one  of  his  books,  makes  quite  a  to-do  over  a  cat 
killing  an  innocent  bird.  He  thinks  that  such  cruelty  re- 
flects on  the  moral  character  of  the  Universe.  It  all  de- 
pends on  one's  point  of  view.  Of  course  it  is  possible  to 
use  the  human  analogy,  and  sentimentalize  over  the  way 
this  scene  would  appear  if  the  aggressor  were  a  thought- 


166  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

less  or  cruel  boy.  Even  in  this  case  the  killing  of  the  bird 
is  immoral,  not  because  it  is  bad  for  the  bird,  but  because 
it  is  bad  for  the  boy.  But  if  Mr.  Wells  knew  cats  as  well 
as  some  of  the  rest  of  us  do,  he  would  realize  that  the  cat 
killed  the  bird  in  order  to  eat  it,  if  its  meal  had  not  been 
interrupted.  It  was  trying  to  replenish  its  market  basket, 
just  as  Mr.  Wells,  by  proxy,  kills  cattle,  sheep  and  poultry. 
To  the  biologist,  the  incident  represents  the  relation  be- 
tween two  life  environments,  that  of  the  felines  and  that  of 
the  birds.  To  the  student  of  Psychology,  it  suggests  the 
play  of  primitive  instincts  or  emotions:  on  the  one  hand 
hunger  or  predaciousness,  on  the  other  fear  and  self- 
preservation.  The  chemist  sees  in  it  the  physiological 
changes  involved  in  such  nervous  processes,  or  in  the  dead 
bird  as  contrasted  with  the  living  bird.  What  the  physicist 
sees  is  two  series  of  energy  transformations,  and  the  move- 
ment of  groups  of  molecules  under  the  stress  of  natural 
forces.  To  the  theologian  who  is  at  the  same  time  a 
scientist,  the  struggle  of  the  cat  and  the  bird  is  part  of 
God's  varied  activity  in  Nature.  We  may  take  literally, 
and  with  the  fuller  content  Science  has  given  it,  the  state- 
ment of  Jesus  that  "not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground  with- 
out your  Father."  The  dependableness  of  natural  law, 
the  Divine  character  of  the  physical  world  of  which  man's 
body  is  itself  a  part,  is  the  background  of  our  picture  of 
the  Universe,  for  which  the  foreground  is  the  personal  and 
moral  relations  between  man  and  man,  and  man  and 
God. 


XVI. 

THE  COOPEEATIOIT  OP  PRAYEE. 

If  consideration  and  moral  strength  are  business  and 
social  assets,  if  the  evolving  Democracy  depends  for  its 
success  on  mutual  confidence  and  esteem,  the  religious 
attitude  which  is  able  to  generate  these  forces  has  a  cosmic 
value.  It  must  be  counted  as  witnessing  to  some  of  the 
most  essential  features  of  the  Universe.  Jesus*  view  of 
the  character  of  God  is  confirmed.  The  social  value  of 
Christianity  finds  its  natural  explanation  in  the  fact  that 
God  and  the  religious  man  are  working  in  harmony  for  a 
common  end.  Man  succeeds  in  a  fuller  measure  than  be- 
fore, because  his  living  and  effort  are  with  the  stream  of 
the  world  rather  than  against  the  stream. 

The  apparent  utilitarianism  of  Jesus'  ethics  is  explained 
by  his  emphasis  on  the  underlying  moral  order  of  the 
Universe.  "Give  and  it  will  be  given  unto  you,"  "Do  as 
you  would  be  done  by,"  are  expressions  of  a  general  law. 
It  pays  to  follow  it,  just  as  it  pays  to  follow  other  scien- 
tific laws.  But  Jesus  expects  us  to  follow  justice  and  good- 
will, not  because  it  will  pay,  but  because  we  have  learned 
the  character  of  God  our  Father,  and  are  adjusting  our- 
selves, whether  consciously  or  unconsciously,  to  a  world 
of  justice  and  goodwill. 

Prayer,  on  the  Christian  theory,  is  the  recognition  of 
the  necessary  cooperation  between  God  and  His  earthly 
sons  in  the  making  of  a  social  order.  In  a  completed 
world,  there  would  be  no  place  for  prayer.  If  creation 
had  been  worked  out  to  the  last  detail,  if  no  control  or  re- 
arrangement of  forces  were  possible,  if  every  event  of  the 

167 


168  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

Universe  were  determined  by  an  unbroken  chain  of 
physical  causes  reaching  back  to  the  beginning  of  Time, 
the  only  attitude  open  to  the  religious  man  would  be  that 
of  submission.  He  might  laud  the  perfection  of  the  Uni- 
verse, and  kiss  the  rod  which  smote  him.  But  to  the  events 
and  conditions  of  the  world  he  must  bow  as  to  the  decrees 
of  an  inexorable  Fate.  He  could  not  expect  to  alter  them 
by  gift  or  merit  of  his  own,  or  by  any  proffered  petition. 
The  Universe  in  which  we  live  is  not  of  that  character. 
We  have  gathered  cumulative  evidence  for  man's  power  to 
control  natural  forces,  to  create  life  and  shape  its  condi- 
tions. Each  day  reveals  our  share  in  an  unfinished  but 
growing  creation.  We  not  only  bridge  rivers  and  dig 
canals,  sow  seeds  and  develop  improved  forms  of  plant 
and  animal  life.  We  also  prevent  sickness,  we  train  chil- 
dren, we  help  our  fellows  in  need  and  in  temptation. 
We  change  the  conditions  of  the  social  environment. 
Christianity  merely  assumes  that  what  man  does,  in  his 
daily  life,  God  can  do  and  will  do.  The  same  control  of 
natural  forces  for  higher  ends  which  is  possible  for  man, 
is  possible  for  God,  and  natural  to  God. 

Prayer  cannot  involve  any  arbitrary  interference  with 
the  laws  of  ^Nature.  Such  an  assumption  has  been  widely 
current,  as  a  corollary  of  the  dualism  of  God  and  His 
world  which  Jesus  sought  to  overthrow,  but  which  has  con- 
tinued to  attach  itself  to  our  Western  interpretation  of  his 
teaching.  By  the  "vain  repetition"  of  magical  formulas, 
by  vows  and  gifts,  by  the  exercise  of  implicit  faith,  God 
might  be  compelled  to  leave  His  preoccupied  isolation  and 
act  in  the  affairs  of  the  world,  on  man's  behalf.  Jesus 
attacked  this  idea  of  prayer  on  theological  grounds.  We 
are  not  dealing  with  a  God  who  may  be  charmed  or  bribed 
or  cajoled.  Nor  can  such  sharp  distinction  be  made  be- 
tween God  and  the  world.  God  operates  in  and  through 
the  forces  of  the  Universe,  rather  than  upon  them,  as  upon 
a  separate  mechanism  which  requires  His  constant  inter- 
ference or  adjustment.    The  Master  refused  to  attempt  a 


THE  COOPERATION  OF  PRAYER  169 

spectacular  feat  which  would  violate  the  laws  of  Nature.^ 
Science,  from  another  angle,  has  made  the  conception  of 
dualism  and  interference  untenable.  Man  finds  himself 
in  a  Universe  of  order  and  law.  Control  of  natural  forces 
is  possible  to  him,  only  as  he  learns  to  know  them  and  work 
with  them.  Magic,  of  whatever  sort,  can  have  absolutely 
no  effect  on  the  Universe. 

God,  as  Jesus  pictures  Him,  is  near  us,  close  to  us,  all 
the  time  and  everywhere,  knowing  our  thoughts  almost 
before  we  think  them,  knowing  what  things  we  have  need 
of  before  we  ask,  cooperating  in  every  human  function  and 
activity,  and  supremely  interested  in  each  effort  that  we 
make  toward  the  establishment  of  His  Kingdom  of  char- 
acter and  goodwill.  In  the  presence  of  such  a  God, 
prayer  comes  to  be  very  direct  and  personal.  We  not  only 
pray,  as  a  natural  and  necessary  part  of  our  daily  life, 
a  recognition  of  our  constant  dependence  on  the  Universe. 
We  pray  in  an  entirely  new  way.  Our  attitude  is  that  of 
a  son  toward  his  father,  that  of  a  junior  partner  toward 
the  great  Head  of  the  Firm. 

Prayer,  with  Jesus,  is  not  to  give  God  information.  It 
is  not  forcing  man's  desires  on  God.  It  is  the  cooperation 
of  two  harmonious  wills.  It  is  the  adjustment  of  our  plans 
and  desires  to  the  plans  of  the  Universe.  When  men  rise 
up  to  help  God  create  what  still  is  uncreated,  to  complete 
what  needs  completing,  to  remedy  that  which  requires 
remedy,  whether  in  their  own  lives  or  in  the  world  around 
them,  their  conscious  communion  and  petition  is  the  ex- 
pression of  a  faith,  an  attitude,  for  which  God  has  been 
waiting.  Man  and  God  are  acting  in  concert.  The  work 
of  ethical  and  social  development  can  go  forward. 
Strength  and  beauty  of  character,  the  practice  of  altruism, 
international  responsibility  become  daily  realities,  and 
help  to  mold  human  institutions.  The  Kingdom  of  God 
has  begun  on  earth. 

A  discussion  of  the  details  of  prayer,  and  its  possible 

»Matt.  4:6-7. 


170  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

answers,  does  not  fall  within  tlie  scope  of  this  book.  We 
are  concerned  here  rather  with  the  value  of  the  Christian 
attitude,  fortunately  far  more  widespread  than  the  ac- 
ceptance of  Jesus'  specific  doctrine  of  prayer,  in  ethical 
and  social  movements.  The  Christian  theory  finds  ample 
scope  in  analogies  such  as  man's  power  of  creation,  the 
personal  influence  of  one  individual  on  another,  and  the 
practice  of  telepathy,  as  yet  little  understood.  The  answer 
to  prayer,  in  any  given  case,  must  remain  a  matter  of  per- 
sonal experience  rather  than  of  scientific  demonstration. 
In  practice  the  Christian  assumes  that  his  prayer  will  be 
answered,  if  it  is  in  harmony  with  the  character  and 
methods  of  God.  And  this  assumption  justifies  itself  in 
his  experience.  An  answer  to  prayer  is  a  step  toward  the 
completion  of  the  world.  It  is  a  response  to  man's  co- 
operation in  the  Universe.  On  no  other  terms  is  it  likely  to 
occur. 

On  the  Christian  theory,  prayer  must  consist  to  a  large 
extent,  not  of  petition  but  of  consultation — ^bringing  our 
work,  our  interests,  our  problems  before  the  Father,  and 
waiting  for  His  answers.  Waiting  for  the  revelation  of 
His  plans,  consulting  our  Architect  for  the  building  we 
must  do,  conferring  with  the  Head  of  the  Firm.  Bring- 
ing before  Him  not  merely  our  own  character  and  our  own 
tasks,  but  the  world,  the  church,  the  community,  the  men 
and  women  in  whom  we  take  a  special  interest,  the  great 
causes  we  have  at  heart.  Only  then  are  we  in  a  position 
to  ask  God  for  the  equipment  we  need  for  our  tasks,  His 
help  in  the  battle  for  a  better  world,  His  definite  blessing 
on  those  for  whom  we  pray. 

Our  effort  must  match  our  attitude.  The  petition  must 
represent  what  Fosdick  calls  our  dominant  desire.  "The 
great  servants  of  the  Kingdom  were  men  of  powerful 
prayer  because  they  were  men  of  dominant  desires  for 
whose  fulfillment  they  were  willing  to  sacrifice  any- 
thing." 2  It  would  be  a  travesty  on  prayer  to  ask  God 
*  Harry  E.  Fosdick,  Meaning  of  Prayer,  1915,  150. 


THE  C05PEEATI0N-  OF  PRAYER  171 

for  peace  of  mind,  when  we  are  worrying  ourselves  into  a 
nervous  collapse.  To  pray  for  daily  bread,  and  not  go 
out  to  hunt  for  a  job.  To  pray  for  forgiveness,  when  we 
cherish  a  grudge  against  our  neighbor.  To  pray  for  a 
cause  in  which  we  are  making  no  adequate  investment.  To 
pray  for  the  triumph  of  Democracy,  when  we  fail  to  show 
human  consideration  to  the  foreign  laborer  or  the  hired 
girl.  Prayer  is  cooperation.  Until  we  do  our  share  in 
the  social  order,  we  are  not  cooperating;  we  are  not  pray- 
ing, in  the  Christian  sense. 

One  other  condition  should  be  fulfilled.  The  individual 
must  leave  his  isolation  and  take  his  proper  place  in  the 
social  order.  He  must  recognize  the  mutual  rights  and 
duties  of  everyday  intercourse.  He  must  feel  social  obli- 
gation. He  must  carry  some  of  the  burden  of  human 
sin  and  suffering,  and  the  resolve  for  aid  and  improve- 
ment. A  purely  selfish  prayer  would  be  a  contradiction  in 
terms. 

It  is  evident  that  this  attitude  of  affection  and  con- 
fidence, the  sense  of  personal  and  friendly  partnership 
with  a  social  God,  is  a  force  of  immense  creative  value. 
To  act  in  harmony  with  natural  forces  is  essential,  in  all 
human  effort.  But  to  realize  that  we  are  acting  in  har- 
mony with  those  forces,  to  see  in  them  the  hand  of  an 
active  and  kindred  and  sympathetic  Power,  to  feel  our- 
selves part  of  a  Divine  movement  toward  a  great  end — 
raises  man's  cooperation  with  the  Universe  to  a  new 
level. 

Those  who  receive  are  those  who  ask;  he  that  seeketh 
findeth.  Opportunity  beckons  to  those  who  are  shrewd 
enough  to  cooperate  with  the  Universe,  according  to  the 
laws  discovered  by  Jesus.  A  genuine  prayer  to  God  each 
morning  for  daily  bread,  begets  in  the  workman  an  assur- 
ance, a  faithfulness,  an  enterprise,  which  are  not  possible 
to  one  who  takes  his  food  for  granted  or  regards  labor  as  a 
necessary  evil.  To  pray  for  guidance  in  the  day's  study 
or  in  pressing  personal  problems,  helps  to  assure  the  atti- 


172  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

tude  of  calmness  and  concentration  which  are  essential  to 
the  best  intellectual  work  and  the  clearest  decisions.  To 
ask  forgiveness  for  one's  sins  and  failures,  and  help  in 
overcoming  unworthy  traits  and  throttling  habits,  gives 
the  sense  of  forgiveness,  the  freedom  of  a  fresh  start. 
Prayer  in  temptation  brings  victory  over  the  temptation. 
Prayer  for  health,  when  joined,  as  true  prayer  must  nec- 
essarily be,  with  a  genuine  endeavor  after  normal  living, 
tends  to  release  the  forces  that  makes  for  health.  In  all 
these  cases  the  effect  of  prayer  is  more  than  reflex.  The 
Universe  makes  a  definite  and  tangible  response,  similar  to 
the  response  which  God  makes  to  man's  physical  or  men- 
tal effort.  Prayer  is  simply  effort  raised  to  the  personal 
and  consciously  cooperative  plane. 

The  cooperative  character  of  Prayer  is  seen  even  more 
clearly  when  we  pass  to  petitions  which  concern  persons 
or  objects  outside  of  ourselves.  Here  again  prayer  is  an 
element  in  its  own  fulfillment,  though  the  fulfillment  will 
almost  always  transcend  the  original  impulse  or  effort. 
Man  and  the  Universe  are  united  in  a  definite  altruistic 
interest.  Any  prayer  for  others  involves  the  thought 
of  others,  and  the  idea  that  their  welfare,  whether  physi- 
cal or  moral,  is  of  common  concern  to  the  worshipper 
and  to  God.  Intercession  opens  the  way  to  personal  as- 
sistance. Prayer  for  others'  health  helps  to  create  around 
them  the  atmosphere  of  health  and  confidence,  without 
which  medical  means  are  seriously  handicapped.  To 
pray  for  one's  enemy  or  one's  competitor,  is  to  exorcise 
the  hatred  and  suspicion  which  form  such  serious  impedi- 
ments in  the  social  order.  Prayer  is  the  strongest  con- 
ceivable agent  for  social  solidarity.  In  such  a  medium, 
isolation  and  cynical  indifference  cannot  live.  To  bring 
before  God  the  men  of  another  race  or  class  or  nation, 
means  the  end  of  provincialism  and  caste  and  selfish 
nationalism.  Under  such  circumstances,  the  exploitation 
of  others  would  be  impossible.  To  pray  for  one's  city  or 
country,  helps  to  make  one  a  loyal  and  dependable  citizen. 


THE  COOPERATION  OF  PRAYER  173 

When  men  unite  in  praying  for  a  definite  trinmpli  of  jus- 
tice or  for  some  movement  for  the  betterment  of  human- 
ity, it  means  the  vitalizing  of  the  common  cause  and  the 
beginning  of  its  realization.  Human  indifference  or  un- 
willingness has  given  place  to  active  cooperation  with  a 
just  and  altruistic  God.  Such  prayers  do  not  interfere 
with  the  course  of  Nature.  They  release  forces  in  the 
Universe  which  are  as  truly  "natural"  as  are  gravitation 
or  chemical  attraction. 

We  may  now  take  up  again  the  question  which  we  laid 
on  the  table  at  the  beginning  of  our  fourteenth  chapter: 
the  Christian  man  versus  the  selfish  and  evil  man,  as  each 
strives  for  a  similar  practical  objective.  It  is  clear  that 
the  Christian  has  an  immense  initial  advantage,  if  he 
will  only  use  it.  He  knows  God.  He  is  acquainted  with 
God's  general  plan  and  purpose.  He  understands  the 
moral  currents  flowing  through  the  Universe.  He  has 
learned  how  to  put  himself  in  touch  with  these  currents 
through  the  attitude  of  prayer.  He  has  the  strength 
which  goes  with  character.  His  habits  of  consideration 
give  him  a  definite  advantage  in  dealing  with  others.  His 
religion  has  brought  an  attitude  of  trust  and  confidence 
which  are  indispensable  to  the  best  thinking  and  plan- 
ning. Once  let  the  Christian  realize  that  effort  and 
study,  attention  and  skill,  carefulness  and  good  manage- 
ment, are  acts  of  communion,  shared  by  God  and  expected 
to  be  acceptable  service,  and  he  will  begin  to  pass  the  god- 
less and  evil  man.  Every  human  activity  is  enriched 
and  strengthened  and  made  more  sure  of  success,  when  it 
is  in  conscious  harmony  with  the  Universe.  Of  this  the 
Puritans  and  Quakers  bear  eloquent  witness. 


PAET  III. 

THE  MOKALITY  OF  THE  UNIVEKSE. 

Section  2.  Indufitrial  Relations. 

XVII. 

IlS-DUSTRIAIi  WAB. 

The  view  of  the  character  of  the  Universe  which  we 
have  gained  from  our  study  of  man  as  an  individual 
member  of  Society,  must  be  tested  further  by  a  considera- 
tion of  the  Industrial  Group.  Back  of  our  social  life, 
in  every  phase,  is  the  God  to  whose  arrangements  and  ac- 
tivities we  adjust  our  lives.  Without  Him  we  could  not 
lift  a  shovel  or  solve  an  engineering  problem  or  plan  a 
business.  The  kind  of  Universe  with  which  men  are  co- 
operating, should  appear  from  the  story  of  Industry's 
failures  and  successes. 

In  the  next  three  chapters,  and  in  the  following  section 
on  national  relations,  it  will  be  necessary  to  make  our 
treatment  more  detached  and  impersonal.  While  we  were 
discussing  the  individual  man  and  the  Universe,  the  rela- 
tion between  them  was  so  obvious  that  in  bringing  it  to 
the  reader's  attention  the  author  felt  free  to  disclose  his 
personal  interest  in  the  matters  under  review,  and  even  to 
drive  home  a  lesson  on  occasion.  From  now  on,  until  a 
certain  abandon  is  allowed  by  the  closing  chapter,  senti- 
ment and  exhortation  are  barred.  We  are  entering  fields 
of  divided  opinion  and  bitter  controversy.  Any  personal 
bias,  any  assumption  even  of  the  functions  of  judge  or  ar- 

176 


176  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

bitrator,  would  defeat  our  purpose.  We  go  in  the  spirit  of 
social  scientists.  We  seek  to  know  the  facts  as  to  the 
behavior  of  human  groups  and  its  results,  for  the  bearing 
which  this  may  have  on  the  character  of  the  Universe. 
The  colorless  method  of  scientific  analysis  has  its  draw- 
backs. But  it  penetrates  to  a  level  of  truth  which  preju- 
dice and  propaganda  never  reach. 

The  organization  of  industry  which  followed  the  intro- 
duction of  steam  was  exceedingly  rapid.  It  has  taken  less 
than  a  century  to  transform  the  simple  slow-going  world, 
where  transportation  was  by  horse-power  or  sails,  and 
where  manufacturing  was  carried  on  in  the  home,  or  by 
small  groups  in  intimate  relation  with  the  employer,  into 
the  world  of  today,  with  its  railroads  and  steamers,  its 
electrical  power,  its  giant  corporations  employing  thou- 
sands of  hands.  Society  had  no  precedents  to  guide  such 
a  development.  There  was  no  previous  experience  to  sug- 
gest the  dangers  which  such  a  transformation  of  industry 
would  bring  to  employer  and  employee,  and  the  ways  by 
which  these  dangers  might  be  avoided  or  reduced.  The 
ruling  political  economy  of  the  day  was  that  of  Adam 
Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations,  The  business  man  was  en- 
couraged to  make  money,  free  from  state  interference,  be- 
cause in  so  doing  he  performed  a  service  to  the  people 
needing  his  goods,  and  built  up  the  wealth  of  the  state. 

This  general  theory  of  the  relation  between  private 
enterprise  and  public  welfare,  appears  to  be  sound.  It  has 
made  for  the  development  of  public  wealth:  in  increased 
supplies  of  food  and  other  essentials,  in  convenience,  in 
the  rise  of  standards  of  living.  For  our  purpose,  which  is 
to  test  the  character  of  the  Universe,  it  will  not  be  neces- 
sary to  discuss  the  existing  economic  system.  Private 
profit  in  Industry  is  the  only  plan  of  which  we  have  any 
practical  knowledge,  under  modem  conditions.  Other  sys- 
tems may  in  course  of  time  be  conceived  and  put  in  opera- 
tion. But  we  have  as  yet  no  basis  of  comparison,  to  deter- 
mine whether  they  will  represent  a  better  adjustment  to 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  177 

our  Divine  environment.  I  propose  to  confine  attention 
to  the  subject  of  industrial  relations  within  the  present 
system.  Here  we  shall  find  enough  diversity  to  make  it 
possible  to  compare  results. 

As  the  modem  era  developed,  the  idea  of  mutual  serv- 
ice was  maintained,  as  far  as  trade  was  concerned.  But 
it  dropped  out  of  industrial  relations.  The  manufacturer 
came  to  deal  with  his  employees  as  he  did  with  his  raw 
material.  The  laborer  was  no  longer  a  chattel.  He  soon 
ceased  to  be  bound  to  the  employer  as  an  industrial  serf. 
But  in  securing  freedom  of  contract,  he  had  become  a  com- 
modity. Labor  was  an  element  in  the  business  to  be 
bought  in  the  cheapest  market,  according  to  the  laws  of 
supply  and  demand,  and  without  personal  obligation. 

Workmen  naturally  came  to  follow  the  same  principle. 
Their  strength  and  skill  was  a  commodity,  which  was  to 
be  sold  for  what  it  would  bring.  In  fact  it  was  the  only 
thing  they  had  to  sell.  The  failure  to  dispose  of  it  for  a 
living  wage  meant  privation,  and  sometimes  suffering  and 
death,  for  themselves  and  their  families.  After  a  long 
and  tragic  struggle,  in  the  early  days  of  the  Industrial  era, 
labor  began  to  organize  in  its  turn,  in  order  to  secure  a 
betterment  of  wages  and  working  conditions  through 
partial  or  complete  monopoly  of  the  market.  Industry, 
instead  of  being  a  relation  of  mutual  service  and  obliga- 
tion, tended  to  become  a  battle  for  personal  or  group  ad- 
vantage. 

This  purely  selfish  theory  of  industrial  relations  has 
been  tried  out  for  nearly  a  century.  How  has  it  worked  ? 
Laying  aside  abstract  theories,  sentiment  and  prejudice, 
let  us  ask  what  groups  of  men  do  under  certain  condi- 
tions, what  are  the  general  laws  of  human  behavior  as 
applied  to  Industry.  Behavior  Psychology  is  throwing 
new  light  on  the  study  of  Economics. 

Limitation  of  space  makes  it  necessary  to  confine  atten- 
tion to  the  two  groups  in  direct  contact :  Management  and 
Labor.    I  can  refer  only  incidentally  to  Capital  and  to  a 


178  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

most  important  fourtli  party,  the  Consumer  or  General 
Public.  An  equally  instructive  study  might  be  made  of  the 
reaction  of  the  Public  to  the  various  policies  followed  by 
corporations  and  by  labor  groups. 

I  propose  in  this  chapter  to  trace  the  immediate  effect 
of  a  policy  of  exploitation,  whether  on  the  part  of  cor- 
porate management  or  of  organized  labor.  Our  purpose 
will  be  best  served  by  studying  some  extreme  but  fairly 
typical  cases  from  recent  industrial  history  in  the  United 
States.  I  take  them  largely  from  the  pre-War  period, 
when  conditions  were  more  nearly  normal.  It  is  a  pity  to 
wash  all  this  dirty  linen  over  again.  But  frequent  laun- 
derings  are  as  necessary  in  Industry  as  in  the  home.^ 

In  1913,  the  bitter  strike  in  the  coal  fields  of  southern 
Colorado,  of  which  the  Colorado  Fuel  and  Iron  Co.  were 
the  largest  operators,  led  to  an  investigation  by  the  Com- 
mittee on  Mines  and  Mining  of  the  House  of  Kepresenta- 
tives.  The  situation  is  described  as  "like  a  system  of 
feudalism,  with  such  regulations  by  law  as  the  operators 
were  willing  should  be  put  into  operation."  The  company 
owned  the  land  and  buildings  in  the  mining  towns,  and 
in  many  cases  the  road  by  which  the  town  was  reached. 
No  employee  was  permitted  to  own  his  home,  and  dis- 

*For  the  field  covered  in  the  next  three  chapters  I  consider  the 
four  best  introductions  to  be  John  Graham  Brooks,  Labor's  Chal- 
lenge to  the  Social  Order,  1920;  John  R.  Commons,  Industrial  Good- 
will, 1919;  Ray  Stannard  Baker,  The  New  Industrial  Unrest,  1920; 
Ordway  Tead  and  Henry  C.  Metcalf,  Personnel  Administration,  1920. 
See  also  Henry  A.  Atkinson,  Men  and  Things^,  1918;  Stephen  Lea- 
cock,  The  Unsolved  Riddle  of  Social  Justice,  1920;  Samuel  Crowther, 
Common  Sense  and  Labour,  1920;  John  R.  Commons  and  students, 
Industrial  Government,  1921;  Scott  Nearing,  Poverty  and  Riches, 
1916.  For  studies  of  organized  labor:  R.  F.  Hoxie,  Trade  Unionism 
in  the  U.  S.,  1917;  Geo.  G.  Groat,  Introd.  to  the  Study  of  Organized 
Labor  in  Am.,  1916;  Carroll  D.  Wright,  Battles  of  Labor,  1906. 
Further  bibliographies  will  be  found  in  the  text.  For  the  parallel 
industrial  movements  in  Great  Britain,  to  which  the  plan  of  my 
book  has  allowed  no  reference,  the  student  might  make  a  beginning 
with  Abbott  P.  Usher,  Introd.  to  the  Induct.  Hisi.  of  England^  1920; 
Sidney  and  Beatrice  Webb,  Hist,  of  Trade  Unionism,  revised  ed., 
1920;  Meyer  Bloomfield,  Management  and  Men,  1919;  Arthur  Glea- 
son.  What  the  Workers  Want,  1920;  B.  Seebohm*Rowntree,  Human 
Factor  in  Business,  1921. 


INDUSTEIAL  WAR  179 

charge  meant  eviction.  Trading  was  practically  restricted 
to  the  company  stora  In  general  the  towns  were  such 
as  might  be  expected  under  frontier  conditions,  with  the 
saloon  as  the  only  place  of  recreation,  though  some  wel- 
fare work  had  been  attempted  by  the  company.  Local  poli- 
tics were  notoriously  corrupt.  Interference  by  the  com- 
pany in  elections  was  justified  as  an  industrial  neces- 
sity.^ Juries  were  not  selected  according  to  law,  and  the 
machinery  of  justice  was  completely  in  the  company's 
hands.  Speaking  of  the  method  of  drawing  coroner's 
juries,  an  under-sheriff  testified  that  he  was  "always  in- 
structed, when  being  called  to  a  mine  to  investigate  an 
accident,  to  take  the  coroner,  proceed  to  the  mine,  go  to 
the  superintendent  and  find  out  who  he  wanted  on  the 
jury."  The  camp  marshals  and  other  guards  were  depu- 
tized as  sheriffs  and  thus  clothed  with  the  authority  of  the 
state,  although  in  the  pay  of  the  company  and  reporting 
only  to  the  company.  The  spy  system  was  used,  to  learn 
of  possible  disaffection  among  the  men.  An  eight-hour 
law  had  finally  been  secured,  but  state  officials  testified 
that  the  enforcement  of  this  and  other  laws  was  often 
difficult.  The  miners  believed  that  they  were  frequently 
cheated  in  the  weighing  of  coal,  and  did  not  dare  to  ask 
for  the  check  weighman  allowed  by  law.  The  operators 
claimed  that  the  men  were  well  paid  and  well  housed,  and 
well  looked  after  in  the  matter  of  sickness  or  injury.  In 
their  view  the  workers  were  satisfied  with  conditions,  and 
the  strike  was  due  entirely  to  labor  agitators.  The  com- 
pany refused  to  have  any  dealings  with  the  miners'  organi- 
zation, the  United  Mine  Workers  of  America.  While  in 
theory  the  men  were  allowed  to  belong  to  a  union  if  they 
so  desired,  any  one  who  talked  union  too  much  was  liable 
to  discharge  as  a  trouble-maker.  In  some  instances  labor 
organizers  had  been  trailed  and  roughly  handled.  The 
miners  were  absolutely  without  redress  against  the  arbi- 
trary and  often  tyrannical  conduct  of  the  local  mine  of- 
*  Supreme  Court,  Neely  vs.  Farr,  Colorado  Reports,  1916. 


180  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

ficials.  The  company  claimed  the  riglit  to  run  its  own 
business  in  its  own  way.  Even  after  tlie  reform  which 
followed  the  strike,  one  of  the  officers  said :  "We  hope  and 
expect  this  plan  to  work  so  well  that  our  men  shall  become 
as  happy  and  contented  as  the  European  peasantry." 

These  conditions  had  led  to  frequent  strife.  A  general 
strike  occurred  about  every  ten  years.  There  was  one  in 
1884,  and  another,  the  so-called  Debs  Strike,  in  1894. 
Foreign  labor  was  introduced  by  the  mining  companies, 
until  the  American  miners  numbered  less  than  25  per 
cent.  The  new  blood  proved  equally  untractable.  The 
strike  of  1903-4  was  crushed  by  the  company,  after  a 
bitter  struggle  and  much  lawlessness  and  violence  on  both 
sides.  ^  In  ten  years,  however,  many  of  the  strike-break- 
ers introduced  at  that  time  had  become  sufficiently  Ameri- 
canized to  attempt  to  force  a  recognition  of  the  union.  Eor 
several  weeks  both  sides  made  preparations  by  buying  arms 
and  ammunition.  The  strike  was  called  on  Sept.  23, 1913, 
about  half  of  the  men  going  out,  according  to  the  opera- 
tors' estimate,  or  95  per  cent,  according  to  the  union  lead- 
ers. The  rest  remained  at  work,  under  promise  of  pro- 
tection from  the  company.  Trainloads  of  strike-breakers 
were  brought  in  under  guard.  The  self-evicted  miners 
established  tent  colonies,  conveniently  located  for  picket- 
ing. Though  they  may  have  armed  themselves  originally 
as  a  measure  of  self-defense,  there  was  an  increasing  ten- 
dency to  push  their  case  by  intimidation  and  violence.  The 
company  men  followed  the  same  methods.  The  mines  and 
mining  camps  were  protected  by  mine  guards,  deputy 
sheriffs  and  detectives.  Many  of  these  were  professional 
gunmen  of  a  low  order.  The  struggle  resolved  itself  into  a 
guerilla  warfare  between  strikers  and  detectives.  Out- 
rages were  committed  by  both  sides.  The  calling  in  of  the 
state  militia  on  Oct.  28,  only  served  to  increase  the  bit- 
terness, as  they  tended  to  act  on  the  side  of  the  opera- 

•  Carroll  D.  Wright,  Report  on  Labor  Disturlxmoes  in  the  State  of 
Colorado  from  1880  to  1904. 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  181 

tors,  many  of  the  militiamen  being  former  mine  guards  of 
a  lawless  and  brutal  type.  On  April  20, 1914,  occurred  tbe 
so-called  massacre  of  Ludlow.  The  militia  shot  into  the 
tent  colony  at  that  place  and  set  fire  to  the  tents,  resulting 
in  the  death  of  5  men  and  14  women  and  children.  In 
reprisal  the  strikers  attacked  a  number  of  mines  in  the 
district,  killing  or  driving  out  the  guards  and  burning  the 
buildings.  The  state  of  civil  war  was  finally  ended  by 
Federal  troops.  The  company  persisted  in  its  refusal  to 
arbitrate,  and,  with  the  help  of  subservient  state  and 
county  officials,  proceeded  to  have  the  miners'  leaders 
indicted  for  murder.  The  strike  was  finally  called  off 
by  the  miners  on  Dec.  14.* 

That  the  miners  had  been  subjected  to  unjust  and  un- 
democratic conditions,  is  confirmed  by  the  later  action  of 
the  Colorado  Fuel  and  Iron  Co.  John  D.  Eockefeller, 
Jr.,  a  director  and  large  stockholder,  had  not  visited  the 
state  for  ten  years,  and  refused  to  intervene  at  the  time 
of  the  strike.  His  natural  humanitarian  instincts,  rudely 
awakened  to  the  situation  by  repeated  criticism  and  the 
revelation  of  conditions,  led  him  to  adopt  the  plan  of 
industrial  cooperation  worked  out  by  W.  L.  Mackenzie 
King,  the  Canadian  labor  authority,  who  made  a  special 
study  of  the  situation  in  Colorado.  I  shall  refer  to  this 
in  detail  in  a  later  chapter. 

The  Industrial  Relations  Commission,  in  its  hearings  at 
Seattle,  Wash.,  in  August,  1915,  brought  out  much  inter- 
esting testimony  as  to  the  seasonal  labor  problem  in  the 
Puget  Sound  region.  There  pass  across  the  judicial  stage 
the  wise  public  official,  the  militant  professor  and  social 

*  Report  on  the  Colorado  Strike  Investigation,  1915;  Hearings 
before  a  Suhoom.  of  the  Com.  on  Mines  amd  Mining,  1914.  A  later 
investigation  was  made  by  the  Commission  on  Industrial  Relations: 
see  Geo.  P.  West,  Report  on  the  Colorado  Strike,  1915,  very  highly 
colored;  Final  Report  and  Testimony,  1916,  7,  6345  to  9,  8480.  See 
also  John  A.  Fitch,  Survey,  27,  1706,  Feb.  3,  1912;  33,  241,  Dec.  5, 
1914;  and  report  by  Henry  A.  Atkinson,  pub.  by  Federal  Council  of 
Churches,  1914. 


182  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

worker,  the  grumbling  employer,  whose  apparent  smugness 
and  arrogance  might  be  due  partly  to  his  being  put  on  the 
defensive  by  the  Commission's  anti-capitalistic  bias,  the 
labor  organizer,  suspicious  and  censorious,  the  leader  in 
the  I.  W.  W.,  explaining  his  revolutionary  philosophy  in 
frank  and  picturesque  language.  That  labor  had  a  griev- 
ance was  clear.  During  the  summer  local  industries  needed 
twice  as  much  help  as  during  the  winter.  Manufacturing 
plants  required  a  surplus  of  about  23  per  cent,  this  extra 
labor  being  used  only  a  few  months  in  the  year.  The  men 
engaged  in  logging  could  not  average  more  than  six  or 
seven  months  of  employment,  netting  from  $350  to  $700, 
according  to  their  skill.  Owing  to  hard  times  in  the  lum- 
ber industry,  the  current  wage  for  common  labor  had 
been  reduced  from  $2.25  to  $2.00,  or  $26  a  month  and 
board.  Some  men  were  receiving  as  low  as  $1.50,  of  which 
$1.00  must  be  spent  for  board.  The  blanket  stiff"  (he 
was  expected  to  provide  his  own  bedding,  and  carried  it  on 
his  back  from  one  job  to  another),  secured  employment 
through  one  of  the  private  agencies,  and  was  herded  to 
the  job  in  a  second-hand  passenger  coach,  sometimes  going 
a  day  or  two  without  provision  for  food  or  water.  In 
railroad  construction  work  the  fare  in  was  provided  by 
the  company.  In  other  cases  the  man's  baggage  was  taken 
by  the  employer  as  security  for  the  fare  advanced,  the  em- 
ployment agency  fee,  the  hospital  fee  of  $1.00  a  month,  and 
the  first  week's  board.  Food  was  almost  uniformly  good, 
at  least  in  the  logging  camps,  as  it  was  necessary  to  keep 
the  human  engine  properly  stoked.  Housing  and  sani- 
tary conditions  varied  from  good  to  unspeakably  bad,  the 
worst  camps  paying  more  attention  to  the  condition  of  their 
horses  than  to  that  of  their  men.  The  labor  turnover  was 
very  large.  The  men  frequently  quit  after  a  few  days' 
work,  and  started  on  another  round  of  transportation,  em- 
ployment and  hospital  fees.  One  employer  stated  that  in 
order  to  keep  a  crew  of  138  men  working,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  employ  234  men  during  a  given  month.    Most 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  183 

of  these  men  were  shipped  in  originally  for  railroad  con- 
struction work,  drifting  into  other  lines  when  this  gave 
out.     Some  of  them  had  left  families  in  the  East. 

Leaving  out  of  consideration  the  skilled  workers  in  the 
mills  and  woods,  it  is  evident  that  the  continued  employ- 
ment of  relatively  unskilled  men  under  the  conditions 
described,  had  been  developing  a  type  of  itinerant  laborer, 
who  worked  at  any  job  that  came  to  hand.  Eeceiving  an 
inadequate  and  uncertain  wage,  a  prey  to  the  exploiters  of 
his  appetites,  he  had  no  chance  to  save  money  and  make  a 
home.  Taking  little  interest  in  his  work,  restless  under 
continuous  employment,  independent  but  not  self-respect- 
ing, subject  to  constant  graft  and  petty  tyranny,  he  was 
bitter  toward  the  employer  class,  and  lent  a  ready  ear  to 
revolutionary  propaganda.  I  have  checked  the  testimony 
by  my  observations  during  six  years'  residence  in  a  mill 
town  in  the  lumbering  region  of  Minnesota.  Due  allow- 
ance must  be  made  for  the  operation  of  the  law  of  supply 
and  demand,  the  saloon  temptations  of  that  day,  the  in- 
adequate and  often  corrupt  employment  agencies,  and  the 
abuses  of  the  hospital  system.  But  a  large  factor  in  the 
situation  was  the  employers'  handling  of  their  men,  not  as 
human  beings,  whose  welfare  was  important  and  whose 
loyal  cooperation  it  was  worth  while  to  secure,  but  as  so 
much  muscle  to  be  rented  at  the  market  rate,  without  fur- 
ther responsibility.  Any  one  familiar  with  the  conditions 
recognized  the  I.  W.  W.  and  similar  movements  as  a  nat- 
ural reaction  to  the  treatment  received,  a  symptom  of  al- 
most unbearable  working  conditions.^ 

Our  third  example  is  the  situation  in  the  woolen  and  cot- 
ton mills  of  Lawrence,  Mass.  The  textile  industries  in 
all  countries  are  carried  on  largely  by  unskilled  labor, 
women  and  children  being  as  valuable  as  men.  The  mills 
in  Lawrence  had  prospered  and  expanded,  until  by  the 
time  of  the  strike  of  1912  the  city  reached  a  population  of 

"Commiss.  on  Indust.  Relations,  Final  Report  and  Testimony^ 
1916,  5,  4097-4571.  See  also  Carleton  H.  Parker,  The  Casual  Laborer, 
1920. 


184  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

85,000.  Immigration  from  Europe  fumislied  an  unlim- 
ited supply  of  cheap  labor.  Successive  waves,  with  lower 
standards  of  living,  had  tended  to  displace  the  American, 
British  and  German  operatives.  Male  workers  over  18 
years  of  age  averaged  $10.20  per  week  (17.5^  receiving 
less  than  $7.00),  and  female  workers  over  18  only  $7.67. 
Even  at  these  wages,  continuous  employment  could  not  be 
counted  on.  In  two-thirds  of  the  families  visited  by  the 
agent  of  the  Bureau  of  Labor,  the  wife  or  other  members 
of  the  family  worked  in  the  mills,  in  addition  to  the  hus- 
band. In  fact,  it  was  difficult  to  make  a  living  unless  the 
family  could  supply  at  least  two  wage-earners.  When  a 
mother  was  compelled  to  enter  the  mill,  the  young  chil- 
dren were  usually  boarded  out  during  the  day  with  a 
family  which  had  an  adult  or  older  child  available.  About 
half  of  the  children  of  the  city  between  14  and  18  were 
employed.  Lawrence  had  the  highest  death  rate  of  all  tex- 
tile cities,  the  infant  mortality  reaching  172  per  thousand 
in  1909.  Out  of  188  typical  households,  109  kept  lodgers 
or  boarders;  members  of  the  family  totalled  941  and 
lodgers  368,  or  1309  persons  in  863  rooms.  The  workers 
lived  in  the  wooden  tenements  which  had  grown  up  to 
meet  the  demand  for  housing.  In  the  most  congested  dis- 
tricts, the  rear  as  well  as  the  front  of  the  lot  was  filled 
with  buildings,  so  close  together  that  there  was  no  room 
to  set  a  garbage  can,  the  population  reaching  556  to  the 
acre.  To  take  a  typical  case,  a  Lithuanian  family,  con- 
sisting of  husband,  wife,  four  children  under  13  and  4 
lodgers,  paid  a  weekly  rental  of  $2.25  for  ^yo  rooms.  The 
husband's  earnings,  when  he  was  able  to  work  full  time, 
were  $7.25  per  week,  and  $4.00  was  received  from  the 
lodgers,  who  were  provided  with  coffee  in  the  morning 
and  soup  in  the  evening.  The  monthly  expenditure  for 
food  averaged  $16.80.  While  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
this  particular  family  could  save  money,  the  savings  banks 
of  Lawrence  averaged  $62,000  of  deposits  each  week. 
The  city  had  become  virtually  a  foreign  colony,  of  many 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  185 

races  and  tongues.  Of  the  newer  immigrants,  less  than 
one  half  had  learned  to  speak  English.  Sixteen  out  of 
every  hundred  could  not  read  or  write.  Only  three  out 
of  every  ten  eligible  for  citizenship  had  taken  out  naturali- 
zation papers.  The  mills  treated  their  labor  merely  as  a 
commodity.  Not  even  the  most  elementary  welfare  work 
had  been  attempted.  The  old-fashioned  method  was  fol- 
lowed by  which  the  foremen  did  the  hiring  and  firing. 
The  workers  were  speeded  up  by  the  offer  of  premiums 
to  the  more  skilled  operatives,  who  acted  as  pace-setters. 
Any  movement  toward  collective  bargaining  was  consist- 
ently opposed.  Various  craft  unions  claimed  a  member- 
ship of  2500.  But  the  unskilled  laborers,  overworked  and 
underpaid,  almost  untouched  by  American  standards  and 
ideals,  constituted  an  unorganized  and  undisciplined  mass, 
where  revolutionary  propaganda  found  a  ready  soil.  The 
Industrial  Workers  of  the  World,  organizing  along  racial 
lines,  had  gained  a  following  of  about  1000. 

On  Jan.  1,  1912,  the  mills,  in  complying  with  the  new 
state  law  for  the  employment  of  women  and  children, 
reduced  the  hours  of  all  operatives  from  56  to  64  hours 
per  week.  When  the  discovery  was  made  that  the  weekly 
wage  would  be  correspondingly  reduced,  the  human  worm 
turned.  After  two  days  of  explosive  violence,  Joseph  J. 
Ettor,  an  organizer  of  the  I.  W.  W.,  took  charge  of  the 
strike.  Through  the  magnetism,  wisdom  and  executive 
ability  of  this  young  Italian-American,  the  inchoate  mass 
became  a  united  and  disciplined  army.  A  strike  commit- 
tee was  organized,  composed  of  four  representatives  from 
each  of  the  sixteen  nationalities.  Relief  funds  were  se- 
cured through  an  appeal  to  labor  sympathizers  throughout 
the  country.  Though  frankly  revolutionary  in  his  attitude 
toward  capital,  Ettor  was  not  incendiary.  His  policy  was 
passive  resistance — ^withholding  labor  in  order  to  stop 
production — aided  by  active  picketing.  There  was  much 
disorder  and  intimidation.  But  violence  was  restrained 
to  Buch  an  extent  that^  with  23,000  at  one  time  on  strike. 


186  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

only  296  arrests  were  made  during  the  two  months'  period, 
many  of  them  for  minor  offenses.  The  situation  however 
was  extremely  tense.  A  slight  cause  might  at  any  time 
have  precipitated  serious  rioting  and  bloodshed.  The 
strikers  felt  that  the  militia  were  there  to  break  the  strike ; 
that  they  had  arrayed  against  them  the  forces  of  govern- 
ment as  well  as  of  capitalism.  Their  bitterness  was  in- 
creased by  the  tactical  blunders  of  the  employer  group, 
such  as  the  arrest  of  Ettor  and  Giovanni  on  the  charge  of 
inciting  to  murder,  which  was  not  sustained  by  the  trial 
court.  Although  the  oflficers  of  the  American  Woolen 
Co.,  the  principal  protagonist,  had  claimed  that  the  condi- 
tion of  the  textile  industry  did  not  warrant  larger  wages, 
they  were  forced  in  the  end  to  grant  a  substantial  increase 
and  make  other  concessions.  The  terms  of  settlement  rec- 
ognized the  fact  that  the  cheapest  labor  was  underpaid, 
those  on  the  lower  wage  scales  being  given  a  larger  share  of 
the  increase.^ 

The  end  of  the  strike  brought  no  change  in  the  policy  of 
the  companies,  and  another  bitter  struggle  broke  out  in 
1919,  the  workers  again  winning  their  demands.*^  One  of 
the  most  serious  elements  in  the  situation  is  the  fact  that 
these  foreign  laborers,  with  a  new  desire  for  freedom  and 
a  growing  sense  of  their  own  power,  are  gaining  their 
chief  impression  of  our  government  from  the  Lawrence 
police. 

We  now  turn  to  the  other  side  of  the  shield.  Examples 
will  be  given  which  help  to  explain  the  widespread  hos- 
tility to  the  labor  union  on  the  part  of  employers.® 

•Chas.  p.  Neill,  Report  on  Strike  of  Textile  Workers  in  Loajo- 
rence,  Mass.^  Bureau  of  Labor,  1912;  Hearings  before  the  Com,,  on 
Rules  of  the  House  of  Rep's,  1912;  W.  J.  Lauck,  Survey,  27,  1772, 
Feb.  17,  1912.  See  also,  from  opposite  angles,  Justus  Ebert,  The 
Trial  of  a  New  Society,  pub.  by  the  I.  W.  W.,  1913;  John  B.  McPher- 
8on,  Bull,  of  Nat.  Assoc,  of  Wool  Manufacturers,  Sept.,  1912. 

'See  John  A.  Fitch,  Survey,  42,  42,  Apr.  5,  1919;  F.  Ernest  John- 
son, The  New  Spirit  in  Industry,  1919,  9ff, 

'The  Employer's  case  is  given  fully  and  fairly  in  the  statement 
by  three  members  of  the  U,  S,  Commiss.  on  Induct.  Relations,  1916, 
1,  235-248. 


INDUSTRIAL  WAE  187 

I  begin  with  the  historic  struggle  between  the  Interna- 
tional Association  of  Bridge  and  Structural  Ironworkers, 
and  the  National  Erectors*  Association,  which  started  in 
1905.  The  union  was  young,  and  intoxicated  with  its  first 
successes.  Frank  M.  Eyan,  the  new  national  president, 
was  anxious  to  make  a  better  showing  than  his  predeces- 
sor. In  the  Spring  of  1903,  a  general  strike  against  the 
American  Bridge  Co.,  a  subsidiary  of  the  U.  S.  Steel  Cor- 
poration, had  brought  an  agreement  between  the  employers' 
association  and  the  union,  which  in  practice  meant  a 
closed  shop.  Friction  arose  two  years  later  over  the  em- 
ployment of  non-union  men  by  sub-contractors,  and  by 
plants  constructing  buildings  for  their  own  use.  The  of- 
fer of  the  American  Bridge  Co.  to  yield  the  point  in  regard 
to  sub-contracts,  thus  unionizing  its  construction  work 
throughout  the  country,  was  rejected  by  the  union,  which 
made  what  Gompers  has  called  the  supreme  blunder  of 
insisting  on  all  its  demands.  This,  together  with  a  breach 
of  contract  by  the  INTew  York  local,  and  a  general  strike 
of  the  structural  ironworkers  in  that  city  on  the  refusal 
of  a  wage  increase,  roused  the  employers  to  aggressive 
action.  On  May  1,  1906,  the  ^N'ational  Erectors'  Associa- 
tion adopted  an  open  shop  policy.  Under  the  circum- 
stances, the  struggle  of  the  union  was  not  only  for  victory, 
but  for  existence,  and  for  preservation  of  the  high  wages 
and  the  8-hour  day  it  had  been  instrumental  in  securing. 
Practically  all  other  unions  had  been  crushed  out  by  the 
Steel  Trust,  within  its  field. 

Since  diplomacy  had  failed,  the  men  turned  to  the  com- 
mon tactics  of  intimidation.  In  the  early  years  of  the 
fight  there  is  a  record  of  repeated  assaults  on  non-union 
workmen.  With  the  growing  vigilance  of  the  employers, 
and  their  use  of  detectives  and  spies,  such  work  came  to 
be  increasingly  dangerous.  At  the  same  time  the  temper 
of  the  union  men  grew  more  bitter.  Their  officers,  with 
the  tacit  endorsement  of  the  membership,  began  to  employ 
professional  thugs  to  carry  out  the  assaults.    When  intimi- 


188  CHAOS  OB  COSMOS? 

dation  of  workmen  failed  to  bring  the  desired  result,  re- 
sort was  had  to  dynamiting  the  construction  work  and 
machinery  of  open  shop  contractors.  In  the  course  of  six 
years  at  least  100  attempts  of  this  sort  were  made,  in 
various  parts  of  the  country.  Ortie  McManigal  is  known 
to  have  been  the  agent  in  20  cases,  and  James  B.  Mc- 
Namara  in  16.  They  were  paid  $200  and  expenses  for 
each  job.  The  lurid  story  may  be  read  in  the  pages  of 
McManigal's  confession.  The  work  was  directed  by  John 
J.  Mcl^amara,  secretary  of  the  Ironworkers'  Union,  from 
the  headquarters  in  Indianapolis,  with  the  approval  and 
cooperation  of  the  other  international  officers.  The  blow- 
ing up  of  the  Los  Angeles  Times  building  in  1910,  with 
the  loss  of  21  lives,  though  done  by  James  Mc]!^amara, 
seems  to  have  been  instigated  by  labor  leaders  in  Califor- 
nia. 

McManigal,  who  had  been  shadowed  for  many  months 
by  detectives,  turned  state's  evidence  on  his  arrest.  After 
trading  on  the  sympathy  of  labor  throughout  the  country, 
which  believed  the  McNamaras  to  be  victims  of  a  capitalist 
conspiracy,  and  exhausting  every  corrupt  method  of  break- 
ing down  the  prosecution,  the  defense  suddenly  collapsed. 
The  two  brothers  were  obliged  to  enter  pleas  of  guilty, 
before  the  case  came  to  trial.  At  a  later  trial  in  Indian- 
apolis, 38  other  union  officials  and  their  agents  were  sent  to 
the  penitentiary.  While  out  under  heavy  bond,  pending 
an  appeal.  President  Kyan  was  reelected  to  office. 

Let  us  now  check  up  the  results  of  this  policy  of  in- 
timidation. After  six  years,  the  union  membership  repre- 
sented a  relatively  lower  proportion  of  the  trade.  While 
some  of  the  smaller  contractors  had  yielded  to  threats 
and  unionized  their  shops,  many  of  these  reversed  their 
policy  on  the  first  opportunity.  The  E^ational  Erectors' 
Association,  on  the  contrary,  was  stronger  than  ever.  And 
the  bitterness  of  its  members  toward  union  organizations 
was  greatly  intensified.  The  cause  of  organized  labor  had 
received  its  severest  blow  since  the  Haymarket  Riot.  Even 


INDUSTRIAL  WAR  189 

without  the  wave  of  public  indignation  which  followed  the 
dynamite  trials,  the  union  had  failed  to  attain  its  object. 
In  nearly  50  per  cent  of  the  industry  union  members  were 
compelled  to  take  work  as  individuals,  at  lower  wages,  and 
with  no  voice  as  to  the  conditions  of  labor.^ 

My  next  exhibit  is  a  sample  of  what  Hoxie  called  the 
predatory  union.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  go  into  past 
history.  In  October,  1920,  a  committee  appointed  by  the 
legislature  to  investigate  the  housing  situation  in  'New 
York  City,  unearthed  a  system  of  organized  graft  in  the 
building  trades.  A  Building  Trades  Council  had  been 
formed  a  year  before,  as  a  federation  of  most  of  the 
unions  engaged  in  this  line,  including  about  115,000 
workers.  Its  President  was  Kobert  P.  Brindell.  Ephraim 
B.  Levy,  a  contractor,  testifies  that  he  was  employing  about 
150  iron  and  stone  men  on  a  two-million  dollar  office 
building  on  Seventh  Avenue.  It  was  understood  to  be  a 
union  job.  The  men  struck  without  warning,  with  no 
grievance  over  wages  or  hours,  and  remained  out  for  two 
months.  Finally  George  Backer,  the  builder  who  was 
superintending  the  construction,  agreed  to  get  the  men 
back.  He  could  arrange  it  with  Brindell;  but  it  would 
cost  money.  The  price  named  was  $25,000.  Mr.  Levy 
paid  over  $15,000  in  cash,  with  the  promise  of  $10,000 
more  in  a  month  or  two.  In  a  few  days  the  men  came  back 
to  work.  He  gives  his  testimony  with  considerable  un- 
willingness and  trepidation,  as  the  building  is  not  yet 
finished  and  he  is  afraid  of  further  trouble.  George 
Backer  is  called  to  the  stand,  and  acknowledges  receiving 
the  money  specified.  After  some  wild  stories  about  losing 
these  sums  in  race-track  gambling  and  at  cards,  he  testifies 
that  he  sent  the  money  to  Brindell,  whom  he  always  called 
up  when  there  was  trouble  on  a  building.  Brindell  claimed 
that  the  iron-workers  were  not  union  men,  and  he  had 

"Luke  Grant,  Report  to  Commiss.  on  Indust.  Relations,  1915. 
This  book  is  not  only  a  fair  presentation  of  the  controversy,  but  a 
valuable  study  of  working  class  psychology.  See  also  Wm.  J.  Bums, 
The  Masked  War,  1913. 


im  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

decided  to  make  an  example  of  this  job.  The  matter  could 
be  fixed  up,  however.  Backer  had  several  interviews  with 
two  walking  delegates,  names  unknown.  At  first  they  de- 
manded $60,000,  as  they  had  to  divide  with  a  good  many 
people,  and  the  cost  of  living  had  gone  up.  Finally  they 
agreed  to  the  $25,000.  The  men  were  to  be  sent  back  to 
the  job,  and  the  first  installment  paid  within  ten  days, 
the  balance  as  specified.  Said  agreement  was  duly  carried 
out,  and  after  that  the  work  went  along  nicely.  Nothing 
more  was  said  about  non-union  iron-workers,  all  erectors' 
shops  in  'New  York  being  in  theory  non-union.  Brindell, 
he  says,  is  absolute  boss;  strike  or  no  strike  depends  on 
him;  he  can  start  or  stop  jobs  any  minute. ^^  We  learn 
of  master  plumbers  adding  4%  to  their  contracts,  as  an 
"insurance  fund"  handled  by  a  certain  lawyer,  who  kept 
1%  and  handed  over  the  other  3%  to  the  unions.  An 
attempt  to  bribe  the  mayor  into  signing  a  limestone  con- 
tract of  over  two  million  dollars  for  the  new  Court  House, 
in  return  for  the  political  support  of  the  Building  Trades 
Council.  The  members  of  the  House  Wreckers'  Union, 
in  order  to  obtain  work,  forced  to  join  a  new  union  af- 
filiated with  Brindell's  organization,  at  a  cost  of  $50 
initiation  fee,  and  $10  a  week.  The  18,000  members  of 
the  Bricklayers'  Helpers  and  Common  Laborers  Union 
paying  an  assessment  of  $2  a  week,  in  return  for  which 
the  Building  Trades  Council  boosted  their  wages  to  $7  a 
day,  and  was  preparing  to  add  another  dollar.  And  so, 
day  after  day,  the  slimy  trail  of  graft  is  uncovered  by 
the  investigating  committee.  People  begin  to  realize  why 
contractors  are  unwilling  to  start  any  more  buildings. 
"New  Yorkers  recall  a  predecessor  of  Brindell,  the  notorious 
Sam  Parks  of  two  decades  earlier,  who  after  his  conviction 
was  chosen  by  his  followers  to  head  a  labor  parade.  He 
proudly  rode  the  length  of  Fifth  Avenue,  mounted  on  a 
white  horse. 

I  reproduce,  as  Exhibit  C,  an  open  letter  from  the 

^N.  y.  Times,  Oct.  22,  1920. 


INDUSTEIAL  WAR  191 

Superintendeint  of  the  Hamilton-Beach  Manufacturing 
Co.,  of  Racine,  Wisconsin.  "If  ever  the  union  labor  had 
a  chance  to  show  what  they  could  do,  they  have  had  it  in 
this  factory,  because  a  little  over  a  year  ago  this  company 
turned  its  factory  over  to  union  labor,  granting  all  the 
demands  of  labor  and  giving  them  more  than  they  asked, 
and  ever  since  then  we  have  had  our  troubles.  The  union 
immediately  appointed  shop  stewards  in  each  of  the  de- 
partments and  everything  done  in  the  factory  had  to  go 
through  these  shop  stewards.  The  last  three  months  it  was 
hell  around  this  factory.  All  we  had  to  do  was  to  grant 
demands  and  the  moment  we  refused  they  threatened  to 
strike.  The  last  thirty  days  the  factory  ran  we  had  two 
strikes.  In  the  first  strike,  the  factory  convinced  the  union 
officers  that  the  men  were  wrong  and  they  were  ordered 
back  to  work.  The  last  strike  was  because  we  laid  off 
seven  men  in  the  tool  room  as  we  had  no  work  for  them. 
Without  any  notice,  the  entire  tool  room  went  on  a  strike. 
The  following  Tuesday  morning  the  entire  machine  shop 
went  on  a  strike  that  we  presume  was  in  sympathy  with 
the  tool  makers.  Up  to  this  date  the  machinists  have 
made  no  demands  of  the  Hamilton-Beach  Manufacturing 
Co.  and  we  don't  know  what  their  trouble  really  was.  Six 
hundred  of  our  employees  admitted  the  machinists  were 
wrong  by  continuing  to  work.  Of  course  on  account  of  the 
machine  shop  being  out  on  strike,  it  was  impossible  to 
continue  operations,  therefore  the  factory  was  compelled 
to  close  down.  There  were  no  objections  to  wages  as 
everybody  was  satisfied  with  the  big  wages  they  were  get- 
ting. There  was  no  dissatisfaction  about  working  condi- 
tions. The  union  simply  wanted  to  boss  the  running  of  the 
factory.  We  waited  all  week  in  hopes  of  getting  this  mat- 
ter straightened  out  as  the  company  did  not  want  to  close 
and  was  anxious  to  get  the  matter  straightened  out  so  as 
to  be  able  to  operate  as  we  are  way  ahead  with  orders.  A 
week  before  the  last  strike,  there  were  some  men  laid  off 
for  spoiling  work.     They  went  to  the  shop  steward  and 


192  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

were  ordered  back  to  work.  The  factory  was  in  constant 
turmoil.  It  was  simply  impossible  to  satisfy  all  the  de- 
mands and  quibbles  made  by  the  union.  We  granted 
nearly  every  demand  we  could  in  order  to  keep  the  factory 
running,  but  towards  the  last  we  simply  could  not  satisfy 
them.  We  are  very  sorry  that  the  factory  had  to  close 
down,  and  put  so  many  people  out  of  work,  but  it  simply 
couldn't  be  helped  as  they  insisted  upon  striking.  .  .  . 
ISlow,  therefore,  the  company  has  decided  that  it  will  have 
nothing  further  to  do  with  a  closed  shop.  When  this  com- 
pany opens  up  again,  it  must  be  an  open  shop.  We  will 
not  allow  shop  stewards  on  the  floor.  We  will  not  recog- 
nize union  labor ;  however,  we  do  not  care  whether  a  man 
is  a  union  man.  The  company  will  operate  what  is  known 
as  an  open  shop.  It  does  not  discriminate  between  union 
and  non-union  men  in  its  service,  nor  will  it  permit  either 
union  or  non-union  men  in  its  employ  to  make  this  ques- 
tion one  of  contention  between  them."  ^^ 

In  the  Chicago  hearings  of  the  Industrial  Kelations 
Commission,  testimony  was  given  by  Charles  Piez,  Presi- 
dent of  the  Link  Belt  Co.,  with  which  he  had  been  con- 
nected for  25  years.  A  member  of  the  Illinois  compen- 
sation and  factory  act  commissions,  his  general  attitude 
toward  labor  and  labor  organization  was  intelligent  and 
cordial.  The  union  shop  had  not  worked  well,  however, 
when  tried  in  their  Chicago  plant.  In  the  molding  room, 
the  output  had  been  between  90  and  100  of  the  6-inch 
rollers.  The  shop  steward  ordered  the  production  cut 
down  to  60.  To  prove  that  60  was  too  small  an  output, 
the  firm  brought  in  a  man  from  one  of  the  machine  shops, 
who  in  the  first  day,  without  previous  experience,  put  out 
90  rollers.  But  the  limit  was  kept  by  the  union  at  60. 
Men  were  being  paid  full  wages  for  two  thirds  the  normal 
.output.  In  the  machine  shop  their  experience  was  similar. 
When  checked  by  figures  from  their  other  plants,  the  output 
in  the  last  year  of  closed-shop  operation  had  been  reduced 

^Raome  Journal  News,  Aug.  21,  1920. 


INDUSTEIAL  WAR  193 

35  per  cent  As  the  firm  was  obliged  to  compete  with  other 
factories  having  a  smaller  overhead  expense,  on  account 
of  their  location,  it  could  not  continue  in  business  without 
a  cooperation  on  the  part  of  the  labor  force  that  would  en- 
sure a  larger  output  per  man.  "If  those  men  arbitrarily 
reduced  the  output  and  show  no  sympathy  with  the  prob- 
lems we  have  and  don't  offer  to  cooperate  with  us  in  secur- 
ing an  outlet  for  our  work,  then  we  have  to  say :  ^ You  are 
not  the  men  we  can  represent,  because  we  are  virtually 
your  agents  in  dealing  with  our  customers.  We  are  trying 
to  find  some  opportunity  to  sell  your  labor.  If  you  are  un- 
willing to  offer  the  same  thing  to  this  man  in  Birmingham 
that  the  man  in  Columbus  offers  he  is  going  to  take  the 
Columbus  man,  and  we  can  not  do  anything  to  help 
you.'  "12 

There  are  other  counts  in  the  opposition  of  employers  to 
the  labor  union,  but  it  may  be  as  well  to  rest  the  case  at 
this  point. 

It  is  clear  that  the  selfish  theory  of  industrial  relations 
has  been  a  good  deal  of  a  f  ailura  From  the  standpoint  of 
the  Employer,  while  individual  firms  have  made  money 
through  the  exploitation  of  their  workers,  such  a  course 
has  brought  a  hostility  on  the  part  of  a  large  section  of  the 
the  laboring  class  that  is  putting  an  increasing  handicap 
on  production.  From  the  side  of  Labor,  methods  of  vio- 
lence have  been  condemned  by  the  wiser  leaders  as  short- 
sighted. ^^  The  exactions  of  powerful  labor  organizations 
in  many  cases,  have  produced  an  exasperation  and  fear  in 
the  employer  class  which  hinder  the  legitimate  demands  of 
Labor  for  better  conditions.  From  the  standpoint  of  the 
Community,  the  production  of  goods,  which  is  the  object 
of  our  highly  specialized  industrial  organization  and  equip- 
ment, is  only  15  to  25  per  cent  of  the  capacity  of  our  work- 
men, according  to  recent  estimates.    The  effect  of  this  situ- 

^  Final  Report,  1916,  4,  3175  if. 

"The  evidence  for  this  is  well  presented  by  Robert  Hunter,  Vio- 
lence and  thei  Labor  Movement,  1914. 


194  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

ation  on  the  cost  of  living  and  on  nltimat©  buying  power  is 
extremely  serious.  Even  with  the  recent  high  average  of 
wages,  living  conditions  in  many  of  our  industries  have 
been  mortgaging  the  health  and  efficiency  of  future  gen- 
erations. And  we  face  a  spirit  of  radicalism,  which  is 
only  spread  further  by  attempts  at  repression.  A  year  ago, 
in  'New  York  City  alone,  there  were  said  to  be  46  news- 
papers, with  a  combined  circulation  of  1,200,000  per  issue, 
advocating  the  overthrow  of  the  existing  system  of  govern- 
ment. We  do  not  need  to  go  to  Eussia  for  evidence  as  to 
the  natural  reaction  produced  by  a  policy  of  autocracy  and 
exploitation. 


XVIII. 

ATTEMPTED  EEMEDIES. 

The  sickness  of  the  body  industrial,  so  apparent  to  every- 
one, has  invited  the  attention  of  a  long  list  of  doctors. 
Still  holding  the  standpoint  of  Behavior  Psychology,  let 
us  examine  some  of  these  attempted  remedies,  for  the  light 
they  may  throw  on  the  nature  of  the  Universe.  Our  order 
of  treatment  will  be  topical  rather  than  historical. 

The  improvement  of  working  conditions  has  tended  to 
stabilize  labor.  As  we  have  already  considered  the  situa- 
tion in  the  lumber  camps  of  Washington,  equally  unsatis- 
factory to  employer  and  employed,  I  give  as  a  contrasting 
picture  the  model  plant  whose  policy  was  thus  stated  by 
W.  J.  Rucker,  a  member  of  the  firm,  himself  a  former 
woodsman.  "I  believe  in  the  employment  of  labor  that 
it  is  important  that  you  treat  them  right,  and  that  you 
keep  a  good  sanitary  condition  about  your  camps.  ...  I 
don't  believe  there  is  labor  in  any  part  of  the  United  States 
that  compares  with  the  labor  in  the  logging  camps  and 
sawmills  of  Puget  Sound.  I  believe  they  are  possibly  more 
intelligent,  better  informed,  and,  by  being  a  little  careful 
in  selecting,  just  as  honorable."  Men  were  not  employed 
until  they  could  give  references  as  to  character  and  fitness. 
Expensive  provisions  were  made  for  sanitation.  The  rooms 
in  the  company  camps  were  provided  with  steam  heat, 
electric  lights,  and  hot  and  cold  water.  Bedding,  blankets, 
and  even  sheets  were  furnished.  In  other  words,  the  same 
care  was  being  taken  for  the  men's  cleanliness  and  comfort, 
as  all  the  lumber  camps  had  found  it  necessary  to  take  with 
their  feeding.    Every  encouragement  was  given  them  to 

195 


196  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

save  money  and  own  their  own  homes.  The  logging  and 
milling  operations  were  made  continuous  rather  than  sea- 
sonal, and  the  wages  paid  averaged  considerahly  higher 
than  in  other  plants.  In  the  making  of  shingles,  speeding- 
up  was  discouraged,  in  order  to  secure  a  higher  grade  of 
product.  Of  the  231  men  employed  in  the  saw  and  shingle 
mill  (135  of  them  married),  149  had  been  with  the  com- 
pany for  a  year,  and  50  for  ^yo  years  or  over.  Of  the  117 
men  in  the  logging  camp  (36  of  them  married),  64  had 
worked  a  year  or  more.  The  concern  was  making  money,  at 
a  time  when  competing  firms  were  barely  holding  their 
own.^  Mr.  Kucker  writes  me  that  their  operations  con- 
tinued to  be  satisfactory  during  the  War  period,  when  the 
labor  problem  in  most  of  the  Washington  mills  was  ex- 
tremely serious. 

Many  employers  went  a  step  further.  From  providing 
wholesome  and  agreeable  working  conditions,  which  is  a 
proper  and  remunerative  charge  on  any  industry,  they 
passed  to  definite  plans  for  the  welfare  of  their  employees. 
These  ranged  all  the  way  from  beautiful  factory  sur- 
roundings and  model  homes,  to  provisions  for  recreation 
and  general  schooling.  In  some  cases  the  motive  was 
frankly  to  secure  contented  workmen,  and  forestall  trouble 
from  labor  unions.  In  other  cases  the  employer  undoubt- 
edly considered  himself  a  philanthropist,  using  his  wealth 
and  power  to  benefit  the  men  and  women  working  under 
him.  To  a  certain  extent  the  movement  has  secured  the 
loyalty  of  employees.^  It  has  helped,  as  Brooks  says,  to 
make  work  more  than  a  routine,  and  labor  a  human  rela- 
tion rather  than  a  commodity.^  The  experiments  made  by 
individual  firms  have  raised  the  standards  of  Industry,  for 
example  in  factory  construction,  or  in  provisions  for  safety. 

'■Commiss.  on  Indust.  Relations,  1916,  5,  4304  if.,  4515  if, 

*0f  174  establishments  studied  by  the  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics, 

136  stated  that  there  had  been  a  reduction  in  the  labor  turnover. 

Bull.  250,  1919. 

^Labor's  Challenge  to  the  Social  Order,  chap.  7.     See  also  Chaa. 

R.   Henderson,   Citizens  in  Industry,    1915;    Ida  M.   Tarbell,  New 

IdeaAs  m  Business,  1916;  Gteo.  M.  Price,  The  Modem  Factory,  1914. 


ATTEMPTED  EEMEDIES  197 

Henderson  reminds  ns  that,  as  private  charity  developed 
into  a  responsibility  assumed  by  the  state,  so  the  benevolent 
works  of  employers  soon  come  to  be  required  by  law. 

Underlying  this  attempted  remedy,  however,  is  an  ele- 
ment of  unsound  psychology.  Self-respecting  people  re- 
sent charity.  They  value  what  they  pay  for  and  have  a 
share  in  achieving.  Welfare  work,  under  whatever  guise, 
has  frequently  been  resented  by  the  worker  as  a  form  of 
feudal  paternalism,  a  taxation  of  his  earnings  for  some- 
thing he  did  not  want  or  preferred  to  secure  for  himself, 
an  attempt  by  capitalism  to  stifle  the  legitimate  desire  of 
the  working  class  to  improve  their  own  status  through  or- 
ganization. The  classic  examples  are  the  bitter  strike  in 
the  model  city  of  Pullman  in  1894,  and  the  partial  failure 
of  the  J^ational  Cash  Kegister  program  in  1901.  This  feel- 
ing has  been  growing  in  intensity  during  the  last  few  years. 
So  strong  is  the  present  suspicion  of  "welfare  work"  on 
the  part  of  organized  labor,  that  even  the  term  has  been 
discarded  by  progressive  managers.  The  function  of  the 
modern  "service  department"  is  to  secure  the  conditions 
under  which  labor  is  most  efficient. 

Profit  sharing  has  been  tried,  in  various  forms,  as  a 
panacea  for  industrial  unrest  and  inefficiency.  In  addi- 
tion to  a  fixed  wage,  payments  in  money  or  stock  are  made 
to  employees,  with  the  object  of  securing  an  interest  in  the 
work  of  the  plant,  and  a  more  permanent  labor  force.  There 
are  many  rocks  in  human  nature  on  which  such  plans  meet 
shipwreck.  The  mere  hand-out  savors  too  much  of  char- 
ity. Periodic  cash  payments  soon  come  to  be  accepted  as 
a  right,  and  cease  to  be  a  stimulus.  The  reluctance  of  the 
average  firm  to  open  its  books  to  the  public,  leaves  a  sus- 
picion of  profiteering  and  economic  injustice.  In  the 
Willys-Overland  Co.  of  Toledo,  a  profit-sharing  plan  was 
announced  at  the  beginning  of  1919,  on  a  basis  of  half 
and  half.  At  the  end  of  the  first  quarter,  $415,000  was 
distributed  to  the  employees  as  their  share.  The  men  struck 
a  few  days  later.    Their  claim  was,  if  50  per  cent  of  the 


198  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

profits  amounted  to  as  much  as  that,  the  firm  could  afford 
to  raise  wages.  With  a  large  labor  force,  it  is  difficult  to 
educate  the  rank  and  file  in  the  principles  and  practice  of 
profit-sharing;  the  relative  effect  of  each  workman  on  the 
total  profits  is  too  small  to  serve  as  an  incentive  to  in- 
creased effort,  watchfulness  and  team-work.  Some  of  the 
most  successful  schemes  are  those  which  share  pro- 
fits in  the  form  of  credit  on  the  purchase  of  company  stock. 
The  employee  not  only  becomes  a  financial  partner  in  the 
enterprise,  but  he  learns  the  habit  of  thrift  and*  provides 
an  income  for  the  future,  in  many  cases  supplemented  by 
a  service  pension.  Unless  properly  safeguarded,  for  ex- 
ample by  some  provision  for  selling  one's  stock  back  to 
the  company,  this  tying  of  the  employee  to  the  business  has 
its  own  social  dangers,  which  organized  labor  has  been 
quick  to  detect.  It  interferes  with  the  worker's  freedom 
to  better  himself  by  a  change  of  employment.  It  under- 
mines his  power  to  bargain  collectively  for  better  condi- 
tions, and  enforce  such  demands  by  a  strike  if  necessary. 
As  the  collaborators  in  the  volume  on  Profit  Sharing  put 
it :  "An  employer's  freedom  from  strikes  should  rest  upon 
fair  wages,  good  conditions  of  employment,  considerate 
treatment,  deserved  loyalty,  and  recognition  of  efficient 
service.  ...  It  is  in  enhancing  the  desirability  of  em- 
ployment with  a  fair  employer  that  genuine  profit  sharing 
can  play  its  part  in  promoting  industrial  peace."  * 

The  opposition  of  organized  labor  to  compulsory  arbitra- 
tion and  legal  limitation  of  the  right  to  strike,  illustrates 
the  same  psychological  principle.  The  modem  workman 
cannot  be  compelled  to  work  under  unsatisfactory  condi- 
tions. The  nearest  approach  to  this  is  the  Australian  plan 
of  fining  those  who  refuse  to  abide  by  an  award,  under  a 
system  of  arbitration  they  have  freely  entered.  The  superi- 
ority of  voluntary  agreements  was  well  stated  by  the  U.  S. 

*Burritt,  Dennison,  Gay,  Heilman  and  Kendall,  Profit  Sharing, 
1918,  91;  Boris  Emmet,  Profit  Sharing  in  the  U.  S.,  Bur.  of  Labor 
Statistics,  BuU.  208,  1917. 


ATTEMPTED  REMEDIES  199 

Board  of  Mediation  and  Conciliation,  for  railway  disputes. 
"There  is  no  decision  against  either  party,  and  neither  of 
them  suffers  defeat.  The  indispensable  service  in  which 
they  are  engaged  goes  on  under  conditions  to  which  both 
parties  have  agreed,  and  this  largely  insures  those  har- 
monious relations  between  employer  and  employee  which 
are  so  essential  to  working  efficiency."  ^ 

Before  the  War,  government  regulation  of  industrial 
relations  was  confined  largely  to  sanitation,  safety  and 
the  restriction  of  woman  and  child  labor.  Minimum  wage 
laws  have  been  passed  by  the  more  progressive  states,  but 
they  apply  only  to  female  and  minor  workers.^  Mere  man, 
though  no  longer  protected  by  an  exclusive  ballot,  must 
work  for  what  he  can  get.  The  War  Labor  Board,  like  a 
just  but  firm  parent,  settled  something  like  600  quarrels 
in  the  course  of  a  year's  time,  adjusted  grievances,  and 
made  American  industry  repeat  this  creed :  no  strikes  dur- 
ing war  time,  the  right  of  workers  to  organize  and  bar- 
gain collectively  through  their  chosen  representatives,  equal 
pay  to  women  for  equal  work,  and  the  right  of  all  workers 
to  a  living  wage.  Unruly  children  were  threatened  with 
a  spanking,  as  when  munition  workers  in  Bridgeport  went 
out  on  strike  because  they  were  dissatisfied  with  the  award. 
They  were  told  by  President  Wilson  that  if  they  persisted 
they  would  be  barred  from  employment  in  war  industries 
and  lose  their  claim  to  exemption  under  the  draft.  In  the 
case  of  one  recalcitrant  employer,  punishment  was  actually 
carried  out,  when  the  government  took  over  the  plant  of 
the  Smith  and  Wesson  Co.,  which  had  refused  to  comply 
with  the  Board's  recommendations.    These  examples  had 

■Report  for  1913-1917.  See  also  Report  of  President's  Industrial 
Commission,  1920;  Geo.  E.  Barnett  and  David  A.  McCabe,  Media- 
tion, Investigation  and  Arbitration  in  Indust.  Disputes,  1916;  Carl 
H.  Mote,  Indust.  Arbitration,  1916;  Mary  T.  Rankin,  ArHt.  a/nd 
Condi,  in  Australasia,  1916;  Research  Reports  of  Nat.  Indust.  Con- 
ference Board:  Canadian  Indust.  Disputes  Investigation  Act,  1918; 
Arbitration  am,d  Wage-Fixing  in  Australia,  1918. 

•Chas.  H.  Verrill,  Minimum  Wage  Legislation  in  the  U.  8.  a/nd 
For.  C(yuntrie8,  Bur.  of  Labor  Statistics,  BuU.  167,  1&15. 


200  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

a  good  effect.  Thereafter,  for  some  months,  the  decisions 
of  the  Board  and  the  principles  on  which  they  were  based 
were  accepted  without  question  by  all  parties  concerned. 
In  fact  it  developed,  as  its  secretary  says,  into  a  supreme 
court  of  industry,  which  adjusted  disputes  so  that  maxi- 
mum production  was  secured.'^  With  the  coming  of  Peace, 
the  nation  reverted  to  a  state  of  industrial  war. 

The  bonus  plan  has  been  a  favorite  method  of  stimulat- 
ing production  and  securing  a  satisfied  and  loyal  labor 
force.  Modem  industry  has  tended  to  rely  exclusively  on 
the  money  incentive.  It  has  assumed  that  men  are  natu- 
rally averse  to  labor,  that  they  must  be  stimulated  to  work 
by  the  necessity  of  securing  a  living  for  themselves  and 
their  families,  and  by  the  offer  of  greater  rewards  for  in- 
creased effort.  Acquisitiveness  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
most  powerful  human  instincts.  We  have  learned  a  good 
deal  in  recent  years  as  to  the  way  this  motive  operates. 
One  thing  we  have  discovered  is  that  acquisitiveness,  once 
strongly  stimulated,  cannot  be  satisfied.  The  more  the 
worker  gets,  the  greater  his  wants.  The  recent  demand  for 
increasingly  higher  wages,  and  the  absorption  of  such  wages 
in  a  higher  scale  of  living,  is  due  largely  to  the  standards 
set  by  the  employer  class,  with  which  the  newspaper  and 
the  moving  picture  have  made  the  worker  thoroughly  fa- 
miliar. That  efficient  labor  in  Ajuerica  will  ever  be  satis- 
fied is  not  probable,  nor  is  it  desirable.  The  satisfied  work- 
man either  does  little  work  because  he  has  few  wants,  or 
he  is  too  exhausted  and  cowed  to  desire  better  conditions 
and  make  an  effort  to  secure  them.  High  wages  do  not 
necessarily  mean  a  high  labor  cost  per  unit  of  output 
Wm.  C.  Eedfield  proved  years  ago  that  the  well-fed  and 
ambitious  American  workman  would  submit  to  a  strain 
of  rapid  productive  effort,  of  which  the  low-priced  foreign 
workman  was  not  capable.  He  cited  the  American  carpen- 
ter in  Paris  who  did  more  work  at  $4.50  per  day  than 
four  French  carpenters  at  $1.90 ;  the  fact  that  his  factory 
'  National  War  Lalor  Board,  Docket,  vol.  5,  1919. 


ATTEMPTED  EEMEDIES  201 

could  fill  orders  in  Belgium  in  competition  with  tlie  local 
factories,  which  paid  the  lowest  wages  in  Europe ;  the  in- 
ability of  Japanese  shops  to  replace  American  locomotives 
on  their  railways,  because,  though  paying  one-fifth  of  our 
wages,  the  labor  cost  was  three  and  a  half  times  greater.® 
Henry  Ford's  high-wage  plan,  with  a  high  standard  of 
living  and  saving  enforced  by  inquisitorial  methods,  has 
lowered  labor  turnover  and  increased  output.  High  wages 
do  not  mean  "contented"  workmen.  But  if  other  conditions 
are  equally  satisfactory,  the  firm  which  pays  above  the 
standard  wage  is  likely  to  have  a  more  loyal  body  of 
workers. 

Another  thing  we  have  learned  is  that  acquisitiveness 
may  be  satisfied  so  rapidly  that  it  ceases  to  be  a  stimulus. 
In  the  studies  which  led  up  to  Scientific  Management,  Tay- 
lor made  the  discovery  that  a  60  per  cent  rise  in  wages  was 
the  largest  increase  which  could  be  safely  offered  as  an 
incentive.^  If  given  more  than  this,  men  tended  to  be- 
come irregular,  shiftless,  extravagant  and  dissipated.  An 
interesting  confirmation  of  this  is  the  lowered  efficiency 
of  labor  under  the  tremendous  wage  increases  of  the  War 
period. 

The  stimulus  of  a  bonus  for  increased  effort  may  be  un- 
social and  harmful  in  other  ways.  Organized  labor  has 
strenuously  opposed  piece  work,  on  the  ground  that  the 
ambitious  worker  was  led  to  increase  his  own  output,  and 
lose  his  sense  of  obligation  to  the  other  workers  in  the 
trade.  Too  often  the  tendency  of  employers  has  been  to  use 
the  swift  workman  as  a  pace-maker,  and  speed  up  the  rest 
of  the  labor  force  to  the  point  of  exhaustion,  at  the  same 
time  lowering  the  piece-rate.  Part  of  the  objection  to 
"Efficiency"  is  due  to  the  memory  of  such  injustice.  When 
properly  installed,  this  system  guards  against  exhaustion 
by  a  study  of  the  motions  through  which  the  task  can  be 

*  Congressional  Record,  62nd  Cong.,  Ist  Session,  1911,  p.  19Z9  if. 

•Gantt  states  that  "the  additional  amount  needed  to  make  men 
do  as  much  as  they  can  depends  upon  how  hard  and  disagreeable 
the  work  is,  and  varies  from  20  to  100  per  cent." 


203  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

performed  in  a  given  time,  without  fatigue.  On  this  the 
bonus  or  differential  piece-rate  is  based.  The  rate,  once 
determined,  could  not  be  cut  without  defeating  the  entire 
scheme.  But  the  worker  has  no  guarantee  that  a  cut  will 
not  be  attempted,  by  indirect  methods.  Nor  can  he  be 
sure  that  the  time  study  has  been  accurate  and  unbiased, 
unless  he  or  his  representative  also  holds  a  stop-watch,  as 
in  the  Men's  Garment  Agreement. 

Scientific  Management,  as  developed  and  applied  by 
Taylor  and  others,  must  rank  as  one  of  the  great  achieve- 
ments of  our  age.  It  means  the  gradual  rearrangement  of 
all  the  details  of  the  productive  process  in  the  light  of  exact 
study,  the  elimination  of  waste  and  lost  motion,  and  the 
consequent  cheapening  of  production.  Our  concern  here 
is  merely  with  the  psychological  effect  of  efficiency  sys- 
tems on  the  worker.  The  standardizing  of  industrial  tasks, 
through  job  analysis,  motion  study  and  the  use  of  the  stop- 
watch, is  in  itself  of  great  value  to  Labor,  which  will  in 
time  accept  it,  as  it  accepts  improved  machinery.  The 
development  of  the  worker  into  a  perfect  machine  is  not 
necessarily  harmful  or  distasteful.  The  athlete,  as  Gil- 
breth  says,  is  a  perfect  machine,  and  finds  joy  in  his  new 
sense  of  power.  Taylor's  pig-iron  handler,  who  learned  to 
load  47%  tons  of  iron  in  a  day  instead  of  12%,  without 
fatigue,  may  have  had  something  of  this  feeling,  besides 
the  extra  70  cents  in  his  pocket.  The  chief  objection  to 
Scientific  Management,  from  the  standpoint  of  Labor,  is 
that  it  tends  to  over-specialization,  offers  no  encouragement 
to  initiative,  and  makes  the  worker  merely  an  adjunct  to 
the  machinery  of  the  factory.  In  other  words,  the  system 
runs  counter  to  human  nature,  with  its  diverse  tempera- 
ments, its  spirit  of  democracy  and  collective  action,  and 
its  desire  for  the  free  play  of  other  instincts  besides  the 
love  of  gain.^^ 

**R.  F.  Hoxie,  Scientific  Management  and  Labor,  1915;  Clarence 
B.  Thompson,  coll.  of  articles  on  Sci.  Ma/nagement,  1914;  Frederick 
W.  Taylor,  Prints  of  Sci,  Management^  1911. 


ATTEMPTED  EEMEDIES  203 

One  important  advance  that  has  come  in  the  wake  of 
Scientific  Management,  is  the  taking  of  hiring  and  firing 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  foremen,  and  assigning  it  to  a  spe- 
cial Employment  Department.  The  aim  is  to  stabilize  the 
labor  force,  and  reduce  the  expense  of  constantly  breaking 
in  new  workers,  which  in  the  average  plant  runs  from  $50 
to  $200  per  man.  With  a  large  force  this  loss  mounts  to 
tremendous  proportions.  Among  the  methods  followed  are 
physical  examination,  careful  selection,  the  fitting  of  the 
worker  to  the  job,  investigation  of  all  cases  of  discharge  or 
resignation,  and  the  shifting  of  dissatisfied  workers.  The 
results  achieved  bear  witness  to  the  importance  of  the 
human  factor  in  industry.  The  new  profession  of  Employ- 
ment Management,  or  Industrial  Engineering  as  it  is  some- 
times called,  is  developing  standards  and  methods,  and 
considerable  knowledge  of  practical  psychology.  Courtesy 
and  consideration  have  attained  a  new  business  value.  The 
initiative,  enthusiasm  and  social  responsibility  of  this 
group,  is  matched  only  by  the  new  profession  of  Safety 
Engineering.^^ 

The  crux  of  the  industrial  problem,  even  in  normal 
times,  is  the  fluctuation  in  business,  and  hence  in  the  de- 
mand for  labor.  Men  are  taken  on  or  laid  off  as  the  market 
ebbs  and  flows.  Such  a  policy  is  expensive  for  the  plant, 
like  all  labor  turnover.  What  unemployment  or  the  fear 
of  unemployment  means  to  the  worker,  only  the  worker 
knows.    In  the  past,  factory  policies  have  been  determined 

**See,  from  the  economic  standpoint,  A.  C.  Pigou,  Unemployment^ 
1913.  On  the  practical  side:  S.  H.  Slichter,  Turnover  of  Factory 
Labor,  1919;  First  National  Conf.  on  Unemployment,  Am.  Labor 
Legis.  Rev.,  May,  1914;  and  the  classic  study  of  an  English  city  by 
B.  Seebohm  Rowntree  and  Bruno  Lasker,  Unemployment,  1911;  Lee 
K.  Frankel  and  Alex.  Fleisher,  The  Human  Factor  in  Industry, 
1920;  Personnel  and  Employment  Problems,  Am.  Acad,  of  Pol.  and 
Soc.  Sci.,  65,  May,  1916;  Daniel  Bloomfield,  Labor  Maintenance, 
1920;  and  coll.  art's  on  Employment  Mcurmgement,  1919;  Roy  W. 
Kelly,  Hiring  the  Work&r,  1918.  Compulsory  insurance  in  its 
various  aspects  is  well  covered  by  I.  M.  Rubinow,  Social  Insurance, 
1913;  Proceedings  of  Conf,  on  8oo.  Ins.,  Bur.  of  Labor  States,  BuU. 
212,  1917. 


204  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

largely  by  the  sales  force.  To  make  employment  continu- 
ous it  is  necessary  to  have  them  determined  by  the  produc- 
tion department.  Let  me  instance  one  group  of  plants 
with  which  I  am  familiar,  employing  about  20,000  work- 
ers. Instead  of  baiting  the  consuming  public  by  new  lines 
of  goods,  the  product  is  being  standardized  for  steady 
sales.  Standardization  also  enables  the  company  to  shift 
orders  from  one  mill  to  another,  thus  helping  each  plant 
to  keep  running  to  its  normal  capacity  throughout  the 
year.  This  part  of  the  business  is  in  the  hands  of  a  well- 
developed  planning  department. 

The  training  of  new  workers  has  become  a  serious  prob- 
lem. With  the  break-down  of  the  apprentice  system,  and 
the  splitting  up  of  industrial  operations  so  that  less  skilled 
workers  can  handle  them,  we  are  in  danger  of  losing  the 
old-time  journeyman's  sense  of  craftsmanship.  In  fact 
this  loss  of  a  creative  interest  in  the  job  is  one  of  the  chief 
factors  in  the  present  industrial  situation.  'New  hands  are 
thrown  into  the  plant  to  find  their  own  way,  and  learn 
their  trade  by  watching  the  older  operatives.  The  high 
labor  turnover  in  the  first  few  weeks  is  a  natural  result. 
To  reduce  this  waste,  and  secure  an  adequate  supply  of 
trained  and  interested  workers,  progressive  plants  are 
introducing  "vestibule  schools,"  or  training  departments 
as  they  are  now  generally  called.  The  plan  commonly  fol- 
lowed is  to  give  the  learners  a  general  introduction  to  the 
plant,  explaining  the  policy  of  the  company  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  shop  ethics,  and  then  place  them  in  a  special  train- 
ing room  under  skilled  instructors.  They  are  paid  a  fair 
weekly  wage,  often  with  a  bonus  for  piece-work  produc- 
tion above  a  certain  standard.  The  course  varies  from  a 
few  days  to  eight  weeks,  according  to  the  amount  of  skill 
required.  The  Packard  Motor  Car  Co.,  one  of  the  pioneers 
in  the  movement,  uses  one  teacher  to  every  six  pupils  in  ele- 
mentary instruction,  and  one  to  three  for  assembling  and 
machine  work.  Their  aim  is  to  give  a  good  general  train- 
ing, and  skill  in  operating  various  machines,  thus  adding 


ATTEMPTED  REMEDIES  206 

interest  to  the  work  and  making  the  labor  force  more  mo- 
bile. Questions  are  encouraged.  The  learner  is  made  to 
feel  from  the  start  that  he  is  a  member  of  the  organization 
and  not  an  outsider.  Careful  records  are  kept  for  each 
pupil,  and  the  instructors  keep  in  touch  with  them  after 
they  graduate  into  the  shop.  In  such  factories  we  usually 
find  a  policy  of  promoting  workers  who  prove  themselves 
efficient. 

As  a  method  of  breaking  in  new  workers,  the  training 
department  more  than  pays  for  itself,  through  the  reduc- 
tion in  labor  turnover,  spoilage  and  accident.  Old  em- 
ployees are  often  sent  to  the  school  for  special  training. 
A  certain  large  factory  picked  out,  for  comparative  study, 
a  worker  left  to  himself,  and  one  sent  to  the  training  room. 
The  former  stayed  at  his  original  level,  while  the  latter 
showed  improvement  after  7  days,  and  in  21  days  doubled 
his  output.  A  new  worker,  after  4  days  in  a  training  de- 
partment, was  able  to  better  the  average  production  in  the 
factory.  In  one  machine  shop,  inexperienced  men,  after 
a  few  days  training,  were  making  a  bonus  of  $7.50  on 
piece  work,  as  compared  with  $5.50  for  old  hands.  The 
effect  on  morale  appears  to  be  equally  good.  Replies  re- 
ceived from  16  training  departments  indicate  that  "it  is 
well  to  give  as  broad  training  as  possible.  Those  who  are 
willing  to  spend  the  time  and  money  to  teach  the  learners 
shop  mathematics,  use  of  precision  instruments,  drawing 
and  reading  of  blue  prints,  invariably  report  that  it  pays. 
The  more  the  employee  knows  the  better  worker  and  the 
more  contented  he  is.  Industrial  education  of  this  sort  is  a 
sound  and  practical  investment."  ^^ 

Each  year  approximately  one  million  children  leave 
school  before  the  age  of  18  to  earn  a  living.  The  volun- 
tary introduction  of  training  departments  can  cover  only  a 
fraction  of  the  industrial  field.   Few  plants  are  willing  to 

^U.  8.  Training  Service,  BulFs  12  and  13,  1919;  H.  E.  Males, 
Survey,  43,  700,  March  6,  1920;  Roy  W.  Kelly,  Traming  Induttrial 
Workersy  1921. 


206  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

go  to  the  expense  of  training  workers,  only  to  have  a  large 
proportion  of  them  enticed  away  by  other  factories  that 
have  made  no  investment  in  their  education.  And  the 
tendency  of  many  training  departments  is  to  turn  out  nar- 
row specialists.  Technical  efficiency  is  cultivated,  at  the 
expense  of  general  intelligence,  initiative  and  adaptability. 
By  the  Smith-Hughes  Law  of  1917,  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment supplements  grants  made  by  the  various  states  for 
industrial  education  of  a  broad  type.  Up  to  the  close  of 
1919,  19  states  required  employed  minors  under  16  (in 
some  cases  18)  to  attend  part-time  continuation  schools 
during  the  school  term,  the  minimum  requirement  rang- 
ing from  4  to  8  hours  a  week.  The  training  is  often  given 
in  industrial  plants,  under  public  supervision.^^ 

Two  facts  stand  out  from  our  study  of  these  attempted 
remedies  for  industrial  war,  in  their  successes  and  failures. 
The  first  is  the  common  interest  of  the  two  principal  par- 
ties to  the  work  of  production. 

Orthodox  Unionism  and  Marxian  Socialism  are  perfectly 
correct  in  stating  that  there  is  a  class  conflict  between 
capitalist  and  laborer  over  the  distribution  of  the  rewards. 
There  is  a  similar  conflict  within  the  ranks  of  labor  itself, 
as  between  skilled  and  unskilled  workmen,  or  between  one 
skilled  group  and  another.  If  a  rise  of  wages  for  clothing 
workers  increases  the  labor  cost,  all  other  workers  must 
pay  more  for  their  clothing.  The  equitable  distribution  of 
the  rewards  for  production,  is  a  problem  which  Society 
may  be  expected  to  solve,  after  long  experimenting.  It  is 
becoming  obvious  to  all  thoughtful  students  of  the  subject 
that  goods  must  be  produced  before  there  are  any  rewards 
to  distribute.  As  Gantt  says :  "It  is  of  course  impossible 
to  pay  permanently  high  wages  unless  a  large  amount  of 
work  is  done  for  those  wages."  From  an  entirely  different 
angle,  we  have  the  statement  of  Spargo :   "The  first  great 

"Fed.  Board  for  Vocational  Educ,  Third  Annual  Report,  1919; 
David  S.  Hill,  Introd.  to  Vocational  Educ,  1920;  Albert  H.  Leake, 
Indust.  EduG.,  its  Problems,  Methods  and  Dangers,  1913;  Helen 
Marot,  Creatvt>€  Impulse  in  Industry,  1918. 


ATTEMPTED  EEMEDIES  207 

task  of  any  Socialist  society  must  be  to  increase  the  pro- 
ductivity of  labor.  ...  If  the  working  class  of  this  or 
any  other  country  should  take  possession  of  the  existing 
organization  of  production,  there  would  not  be  enough  in 
the  fund  now  going  to  the  capitalist  class  to  satisfy  the 
requirements  of  the  workers,  even  if  not  a  penny  of  com- 
pensation were  paid  to  the  expropriated  owners."  ^* 

What  our  study  has  indicated  is  the  benefit  that  has 
tended  to  result  to  both  employer  and  employee  from  the 
improvement  in  conditions  of  labor  and  the  increase  of  re- 
ward, with  a  resulting  rise  in  standard  of  living.  One 
cannot  read  Miss  Tarbell's  book  on  New  Ideals  in  Business, 
without  a  realizing  sense  that  good  treatment  is  good  busi- 
ness. The  ideal  of  a  recognized  common  interest  in  the 
work  of  production  has  been  eloquently  expressed  by  King. 
"Let  Faith  be  substituted  for  Fear;  let  mutual  considera- 
tion and  confidence  supplant  suspicion,  and  constructive 
good-will  replace  resistance;  let  the  parties  to  Industry 
recognize  a  mutuality,  not  a  conflict  of  interest,  in  all  that 
pertains  to  maximum  production  and  equitable  distribu- 
tion of  wealth ;  and  what  is  the  result  ?  Immediately,  fresh 
energies  are  released,  a  new  freedom  is  given  to  effort  in 
Industry.  Productivity  is  increased,  as  are  also  the  re- 
spective rewards  of  all  the  parties."  ^^ 

The  second  fact  suggested  by  our  study  helps  to  explain 
the  present  difficulty  in  realizing  this  ideal.  It  is  appar- 
ent today,  even  more  clearly  than  in  the  pre-War  period, 
that  good  treatment  of  labor  may  bring  bad  results.  This 
fact  has  mystified  many  employers.  But  it  simply  means 
that  there  are  psychological  factors,  the  neglect  of  which 
may  vitiate  the  advantage  of  better  working  conditions  and 
larger  rewards.  The  parties  to  Industry  are  individual 
human  beings,  not  machines.  The  employer  is  human. 
His  unconscious  hypocrisy,  his  patronizing  paternalism, 
even  his  indigestion  or  domestic  troubles,  may  affect  the 

**  John  Spargo,  Bolshevism,  1919,  287. 

"W.  L.  M.  King,  Industry  wnd  Humanity^  1918,  261. 


208  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

spirit  of  the  entire  plant.  The  foreman  is  human.  A  pig- 
headed or  bad-tempered  or  domineering  overseer  has  been 
known  to  undo  the  best-laid  plans  of  the  management.  The 
workman  is  very  human.  He  has  his  own  moods  and 
whims,  his  family  or  financial  worries,  his  days  of  ner- 
vousness and  low  vitality.  He  is  filled  with  the  traditions 
and  prejudices  of  his  race,  religion,  class  and  trade.  !N^o 
two  workmen  are  alike.  One  likes  to  work  under  strict 
discipline,  another  resents  authority.  One  man  may  en- 
joy a  monotonous  task,  where  his  mate,  apparently  with 
no  higher  intelligence,  is  irritated  by  it.  In  different 
groups  of  workmen,  we  find  the  same  infinite  permutations 
of  personality,  complicated  by  racial  mixtures  and  the 
character  of  the  group  leadership.  The  proper  handling  of 
industrial  relations  is  indeed  a  fine  art.  'No  mechanical 
scheme  can  be  counted  on  to  give  specific  results. 

The  most  striking  characteristic  of  the  present-day 
workman,  particularly  in  the  semi-skilled  trades,  would 
seem  to  be  his  independence.  The  democratic  spirit  has 
gripped  him.  He  is  no  longer  satisfied  with  mere  freedom 
of  contract,  or  a  cinch-hold  on  the  rewards  of  production. 
The  recent  situation  in  Industry  has  been  thus  interpreted 
to  me  by  an  industrial  relations  manager,  who  had  been 
able  to  gain  the  worker's  point  of  view  through  several 
years  of  practical  experience.  Before  the  War,  with  the 
surplus  of  labor  and  the  fluctuating  demands  of  Industry, 
the  dominant  motive  was  fear.  The  workman  was  haunted 
by  the  dread  of  losing  his  job.  He  did  what  he  was  told 
to  do,  and  speeded  up  his  output,  on  pain  of  having  his 
place  taken  by  another  man.  A  type  of  foreman  was 
developed  whose  success  was  gauged  by  his  ability  to  drive 
the  men  under  him.  During  the  War,  with  the  curtailment 
of  the  labor  supply  and  the  demand  of  the  ITation  for  in- 
creased production,  employers  appealed  to  their  men  for 
cooperation  in  the  industry,  on  patriotic  grounds.  This 
appeal  met  a  somewhat  general  response.  A  large  num- 
ber of  plants  installed  some  plan  of  employees'  represen- 


ATTEMPTED  KEMEDIES  209 

tation,  of  which  I  shall  speak  later.  On  the  part  of  the 
employers,  however,  this  idea  was  not  deep-seated ;  it  was 
intended  merely  for  a  patriotic  emergency.  Most  of  them 
proceeded  to  forget  it,  and  hoped  that  their  employees 
would  do  the  same.  But  the  workmen  did  not  forget. 
They  felt  that  they  had  been  promised  certain  things,  and 
that  these  promises  ought  to  be  fulfilled.  They  had  been 
given  a  taste  of  democratic  management,  and  refused  to 
go  back  to  the  old  autocratic  relations.  With  the  con- 
tinued labor  shortage,  they  had  lost  their  fear ;  they  could 
no  longer  be  driven.  The  result  was  seen  in  the  general 
industrial  unrest,  and,  more  specifically,  in  lowered  out- 
put, irregularity  in  reporting  for  work,  and  the  tremen- 
dous increase  in  the  labor  turnover,  the  proportion  of  new 
men  hired  reaching  in  some  plants  as  high  as  1,000  per  cent 
a  year. 

How  far  this  free  and  democratic  spirit  will  evaporate 
under  changed  economic  conditions,  no  one  can  predict. 
The  fear  of  unemployment  is  again  enforcing  discipline 
and  increasing  output.  But  a  man's  experience  of  democ- 
racy is  like  a  ratcheted  wheel,  which  goes  forward  but  can- 
no*-  go  backward.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  what  Hen- 
derson wrote  six  years  ago  is  even  more  true  today.  "The 
modern  workman  never  can  be  morally  content  and  satis- 
fied as  long  as  his  mind,  will  and  voice  count  for  nothing  in 
the  direction  of  the  industry  and  its  product.  He  may  not 
yet  be  adequately  prepared  for  that  responsibility ;  his  am- 
bition may  outrun  his  education,  but  he  is  looking  forward 
to  it,  and  he  chafes  while  he  waits."  ^^ 

Our  study  has  shown  that  the  motive  of  acquisitiveness 
cannot  be  utilized  beyond  a  certain  point  for  the  stimula- 
tion of  output.  There  are  other  important  instincts,  how- 
ever, which  modem  Industry  has  tended  to  overlook  or  sup- 
press.    Increasing  specialization  has  left  little  scope  for 

"Chas.  R.  Henderson,  Citizens  in  Industry,  1915,  xv.  Cf.  Report 
of  President's  Indust.  Conf.,  1920 ;  Wm.  R.  Basset,  When  the  Worker 
Helps  You  Manage,  1919;  Meyer  Bloomfield,  Survey,  28,  312, 
1912. 


210  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

the  creative  instinct,  the  craftsman's  joy  in  the  finished 
product.  There  seems  to  be  no  possibility  of  going  back 
to  the  old  system,  where  the  worker  in  a  shoe  factory,  for 
example,  made  a  complete  shoe.  To  secure  a  general  re- 
vival of  the  spirit  of  craftsmanship,  two  lines  are  being 
followed.  The  first  is  educational.  Much  may  be  hoped 
for  from  the  modem  movement  for  vocational  training, 
of  which  I  have  already  spoken.  The  second  line  of  ap- 
proach is  the  development  of  a  worker's  interest  in  the  in- 
dustry through  some  measure  of  democratic  control.  We 
all  find  greater  joy  in  work  when  we  feel  a  sense  of  part- 
nership in  the  process,  or  ownership  in  the  product.  "The 
kitchen-maid  may  very  easily  find  the  dish  washing  a 
drudge's  task,  while  the  housewife  does  not  so  consider  it. 
The  difference  lies  in  the  interest  of  the  worker  in  the 
household  as  a  member  of  it."  ^"^  The  same  psychological 
fact  is  likely  to  be  true  in  Industry.  Democratic  control 
allows  scope  for  the  instinct  of  self-assertion,  and  for  the 
herd  instinct,  which  leads  men  to  act  together  and  follow 
the  leadership  they  have  themselves  helped  to  create.  Ex- 
periments along  this  line  will  occupy  our  attention  in  the 
next  chapter. 

"Fred  H.  Colvin,  Labor  Turnover,  Loyalty  and  Output,  1919,  25. 
See  also  Ordway  Tead,  Instincts  in  Industry,  1918,  an  invaluable 
book  for  the  student  of  industrial  relations. 


XIX. 

DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY. 

From  the  standpoint  of  Society  as  a  whole,  our  elaborate 
industrial  organization  is  not  for  the  sake  of  profits  or 
wages,  but  rather  for  the  production  of  community  goods 
and  the  development  of  complete  men.  A  system  which 
fell  far  short  of  the  possibilities  of  production,  or  which 
dwarfed  the  many  for  the  sake  of  the  few,  must  be  re- 
garded as  a  social  failure.  And  social  failure  is  cosmic 
maladjustment,  a  lack  of  harmony  with  the  fundamental 
conditions  of  the  Universe.  There  are  therefore  two  gen- 
eral criteria  for  the  success  of  an  industrial  policy:  its 
ability  to  maintain  the  highest  quantity  and  quality  of  pro- 
duction, or  whatever  public  service  is  to  be  performed, 
and  its  physical  and  moral  effect  on  the  men  engaged 
in  it.  The  two  are  closely  related.  To  obtain  a  high  out- 
put from  the  worker,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  necessary  to 
secure,  not  only  proper  working  and  housing  conditions, 
but  the  free  expression  of  those  instincts  which  lead  work- 
men to  do  their  best  work.  These  factors  in  turn  aid  the 
full  development  of  personality.  It  is  in  his  daily  task 
that  a  man  normally  finds  his  life  and  maintains  his  self- 
respect.^ 

In  this  chapter  I  shall  outline  some  of  the  experiments 
that  have  been  made  along  the  line  of  industrial  democ- 
racy. They  will  indicate  the  results  which  may  be  ex- 
pected from  the  stimulation  of  other  human  motives,  in 
addition  to  those  involved  in  financial  rewards.^    The  fol- 

*See   Whiting   Williams,   Whafs  on   the  Workers'   Mind,   1920, 
chap.  12. 

^See  ante  p.  209. 

211 


212  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

lowing  examples  are  chosen  to  illustrate  various  types  of 
cooperation. 

The  Endicott-Johnson  factories,  near  Binghamton, 
N.  Y.,  the  largest  shoe  manufacturers  in  the  United  States, 
have  often  been  cited  as  an  ideal  of  industrial  relations. 
The  owners  grew  up  with  the  shoe  and  leather  business, 
and  Geo.  F.  Johnson,  to  whom  the  labor  policy  is  largely 
due,  started  life  as  a  shoemaker.  About  13,000  workers 
were  employed.  In  over  36  years  there  had  been  no  sus- 
picion of  labor  trouble.  Labor  leaders  who  visited  the 
plant  made  no  attempt  to  organize  the  workers,  stating 
that  the  company  was  doing  for  its  help  what  the  unions 
were  trying  to  do.  The  workers  were  well  paid.  Every- 
thing possible  was  done  for  their  comfort  and  enjoyment, 
and  that  of  their  families.  They  had  absolute  confidence 
in  the  management,  which  was  constantly  striving  to  un- 
derstand their  point  of  view.  There  were  no  formal  shop 
committees.  Every  employee  knew  that  he  could  go  di- 
rectly to  the  general  manager,  if  he  felt  that  injustice  was 
being  done.  The  employers  and  employees  sent  their  chil- 
dren to  the  same  schools,  attended  the  same  churches,  and 
were  interested  in  the  same  sports.  The  policy  of  the  com- 
pany was  to  fill  no  important  position  outside  of  its  own 
ranks,  and  the  door  of  promotion  was  always  open.  The 
workers  were  encouraged  to  make  suggestions  for  improve- 
ing  the  business ;  one  laborer  was  paid  $5,000  in  cash  for 
a  valuable  idea.  Profit  sharing  was  introduced  at  the  be- 
ginning of  1920,  not  as  an  incentive,  but  as  a  logical  out- 
come of  the  mutuality  of  interest.^ 

It  is  obvious  that  such  close  personal  relationships  are 
impossible  in  the  average  corporation  of  the  present  day, 
whose  managers  have  received  their  training  in  business 
rather  than  in  the  industrial  process  itself.  I  have  given 
this  example,  partly  for  its  historical  interest,  as  illustrat- 
ing the  survival  in  a  large  modern  plant  of  the  old  time  re- 

•The  ideals  of  the  owners  are  described  in  Red  Cross  Mag.,  Dec, 
1919;  System,  Jan.,  1920;  Outlook,  Apr.  14,  1920. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTEY  213 

lations  of  master  and  men ;  partly  because  it  suggests  the 
spirit  of  fair  dealing  and  sympathetic  understanding  which 
lies  at  the  basis  of  successful  labor  management.  Many 
corporations  are  requiring  their  future  superintendents 
and  staff  officers  to  spend  weeks  or  even  months  at  the 
bench,  in  order  to  gain  the  point  of  view  of  the  man  with 
the  dinner  pail. 

Another  ideal,  showing  what  may  be  accomplished  by 
arousing  interest  in  productive  processes,  is  found  in  the 
work  of  Kobert  B.  Wolf  with  the  sulphite  pulp  plant  of 
the  Burgess  Co.,  at  Berlin,  JST.  H.  In  six  years  time,  an 
annual  output  of  42,000  tons  of  the  lowest  quality  was 
changed  to  111,000  tons  of  the  highest  quality.  "His  first 
step  was  the  working  out  of  scientific  standards  for  the 
tasks.  To  begin  with,  for  example,  there  were  nine  men 
engaged  in  the  important  process  of  cooking  the  pulp. 
Each  man  cooked  by  his  own  rule-of -thumb  method,  and 
the  result  was  nine  different  kinds  of  pulp,  of  varying  de- 
grees of  badness.  There  was  on  the  staff  of  the  plant  a 
chemist,  whose  function  was  to  make  certain  stereotyped 
tests.  Mr.  Wolf  proceeded  to  make  work  interesting  for 
the  chemist  by  putting  him  at  the  job  of  improving  the 
quality  of  the  pulp.  For  a  long  time  he  studied  the  cook- 
ing process,  and  through  the  cooperation  of  the  workmen 
who  did  the  cooking  he  accumulated  a  large  amount  of 
technical  data.  At  length,  by  the  use  of  this  data,  and 
again  with  the  help  of  the  workmen,  a  combination  of 
variables,  temperature,  pressure,  cooking-time,  etc.,  was 
worked  out  which  produced  good  pulp.  A  chart  was  plot- 
ted which  showed  graphically  the  different  factors  in  the 
^deaF  cooking  process.  The  cookers  readily  grasped  this 
chart,  and  they  were  then  able  to  compare  their  own  per- 
formance with  the  chart  and  gradually  to  make  their  ef- 
forts approximate  the  standard.  .  .  .  Progress  records, 
either  for  individuals  or  groups,  were  worked  out  to  affect 
almost  every  one  of  the  twelve  or  thirteen  hundred  men  in 
the  mill.    It  is  interesting  to  know  that  this  scheme  was 


214  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

first  hit  upon  by  accident  Mr.  Wolf  planned  a  bonus  sys- 
tem, and  when  this  was  turned  down  by  the  owners  of  the 
plant  he  conceived  the  idea  of  posting  the  records  from 
which  the  bonuses  would  have  been  paid.  As  an  improve- 
ment on  purely  quantity  records  quality  records  were 
evolved,  and  it  was  found  that  certain  hard  feelings  engen- 
dered by  quantity  competition  disappeared  and  that  a 
spirit  of  intelligent  cooperation  among  the  men  took  its 
place.  To  improve  their  own  work  men  made  suggestions 
for  improving  operating  conditions,  which  eventually  re- 
sulted in  the  redesigning  of  most  of  the  apparatus.  Then 
one  day  a  workman  said,  ^We  don't  know  what  things 
cost ;  if  we  knew  we  could  save  materials.'  The  result  was 
that  cost  sheets,  which  had  first  been  given  only  to  heads 
of  departments,  were  given  to  each  foreman  and  through 
him  to  the  men.  Foremen  got  into  the  habit  of  figuring 
estimates  on  the  cost  of  their  work,  and  then  trying  to  beat 
their  own  estimates.  Some  of  the  workmen  would  bring 
scales  into  the  mill  to  weigh  the  material  delivered  to  them, 
to  make  sure  the  storehouse  was  not  beating  them  on  the 
material  charged  against  the  job.  The  net  result  was  the 
cutting  in  two  of  the  maintenance  material  cost,  with  a 
saving  of  $20,000  a  month."  In  Mr.  Wolf's  words :  "Our 
men  were  well  paid,  better  paid  than  those  in  any  similar 
plant  in  the  country,  because  they  earned  it.  But  the  pay- 
ment was  entirely  on  a  weekly  and  hourly  basis."  Men 
frequently  said  to  him:  "We  don't  like  to  be  bribed  to 
do  a  good  job.  We  would  like  to  have  the  privilege  of 
doing  a  good  job  without  being  baited  to  do  it."  Similar 
plans  carried  out  in  a  group  of  Canadian  plants,  had  the 
hearty  support  of  the  union.  John  P.  Burke,  president 
of  the  International  Brotherhood  of  Pulp,  Sulphite  and 
Paper  Mill  Workers,  says:  "Four  years  ago  I  worked  in 
the  mill.  I  know  what  it  is  to  go  through  the  same  deaden- 
ing motions  hour  after  hour  and  day  after  day.  When 
that  work  was  made  interesting  it  was  as  much  of  a  bene- 
fit to  the  workers  as  taking  four  hours  off  the  workday. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY  215 

When  Mr.  Wolf  explained  to  the  local  union  what  he  pro- 
posed to  do,  and  when  we  were  satisfied  that  he  had  no  ul- 
terior motives,  we  cooperated  with  him,  hecause  the  labor 
movement  believes  in  progress,  not  in  stagnation."  * 

The  plan  of  industrial  cooperation  inaugurated  by  the 
Colorado  Fuel  and  Iron  Co.,  at  the  close  of  the  strike  de- 
scribed in  a  previous  chapter,  was  a  compromise  between 
the  system  of  individual  bargaining  previously  in  force, 
and  recognition  of  the  miners'  union,  which  the  company 
had  persistently  refused.  John  D.  Kockefeller,  Jr.  made 
B.  personal  visit  to  Colorado,  meeting  the  miners  in  their 
homes.  He  said  to  them :  "They  tell  you  that  we  are  ene- 
mies. I  have  come  here  to  tell  you  that  we  are  not  ene- 
mies, but  partners.  Labor  and  Capital  are  partners,  not 
enemies.  Neither  one  can  get  on  without  the  other.  Their 
interests  are  common,  not  antagonistic."  The  idea  of  Mr. 
King  had  been  to  devise  some  machinery  which  would  not 
only  prevent  labor  from  being  exploited,  but  secure  the 
cordial  cooperation  which  would  further  industrial  effi- 
ciency. A  system  of  representative  government  was 
worked  out,  with  joint  committees  for  each  district,  and 
for  the  industry  as  a  whole.  An  Employees'  Bill  of 
Eights  assured  strict  compliance  with  federal  and  state 
laws,  the  posting  at  each  mine  of  the  wage  scale  and  work- 
ing conditions,  the  right  of  assemblage,  and  of  membership 
or  non-membership  without  discrimination  in  any  union. 
Grievances  were  to  be  investigated.  An  appeal  could  be 
taken  to  the  officers  of  the  company,  and  from  these  to  the 
State  Commission,  whose  findings  were  to  be  regarded  as 
binding  on  both  parties.  The  plan  was  submitted  to  the 
men,  and  adopted  by  a  majority  of  84  per  cent  of  the  votes 
cast.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  constitution  was 
printed  in  seven  languages.^ 

*  Survey,  44,  112,  Apr.  17,  1920.  See  also  Wolf's  paper  on  Non- 
Financial  Incentives,  Am.  Soc.  of  Mechan.  Engineers,  Dec,  1918. 

°W.  L.  M.  King,  Industry  and  Humanity,  1918,  434  ff.;  Commis. 
on  Indust.  ReVs,  1916,  9,  8449  //.;  J.  D.  Rockefeller,  Jr.,  The  Colo- 
rado Indust.  Plan,  1916. 


216  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

There  can  be  no  question  that  this  plan  was  offered  by 
the  company  in  good  faith,  and  represented  a  radical 
change  in  policy.  Many  of  the  worst  evils  were  corrected. 
The  mine  foreman  was  shorn  of  some  of  his  arbitrary 
power.  Cooperation  between  the  representatives  of  em- 
ployers and  employees  secured  a  great  improvement  in  con- 
ditions of  labor  and  housing.  The  men,  however,  appear 
to  have  resented  it  as  an  attempt  to  forestall  their  own 
democratic  plan  of  representation  through  the  union.  They 
took  little  interest  in  the  elections,  and  made  almost  no  use 
of  the  machinery  for  presenting  grievances.^  Those  famil- 
iar with  the  situation  were  not  surprised  to  learn  of  another 
strike  in  the  Fall  of  1921,  following  a  30  per  cent  reduction 
in  wages.  The  statement  of  the  company's  counsel,  on  "Noy, 
17,  is  highly  significant,  in  the  light  of  previous  history: 
"We  will  let  the  mines  remain  idle  if  the  men  go  out  until 
such  time  as  they  are  ready  to  report  back  for  work.  The 
Colorado  Fuel  and  Iron  Company,  contrary  to  current  re- 
ports, will  not  import  one  strike  breaker.  If  any  need 
arises  for  protection  of  our  property  we  will  look  to  the 
State  to  provide  it.  We  will  not  employ  one  additional 
watchman  and  we  refuse  to  admit  there  will  be  any  need 
for  mine  guards." 

An  associate  of  the  C.  F.  and  I.  in  the  strike  of  1913, 
the  Victor  American  Fuel  Co.,  was  forced  by  labor  condi- 
tions to  reverse  its  attitude  toward  organized  labor,  and 
make  a  contract  with  the  United  Mine  Workers.  This 
Agreement  will  serve  as  well  as  any  to  illustrate  the  col- 
lective bargaining  carried  out  for  many  years  in  a  large 
section  of  American  industry,  by  what  Hoxie  calls  the 
"business  type"  of  labor  union.  It  covers  17  companies  in 
Colorado,  and  26  mines,  for  each  of  which  the  piece  and 
times  rates  are  minutely  specified.  "In  the  interest  of 
good  and  efficient  service,"  the  contract  reads,  "the  Union 

•  John  A.  Fitch,  Two  Tears  of  the  Rockefeller  Plan,  Survey,  39,  14, 
Oct.  6,  1917.  See  also  comment  by  J.  E.  Williams,  id.,  35,  145, 
Nov.  6,  1915. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY  217 

agrees  to  promote  and  encourage  a  feeling  of  friendliness, 
cooperation  and  contentment  at  the  mines  of  the  Company 
in  order  that  there  shall  be  no  violation  of  the  contract; 
and  to  use  all  the  power  and  influence  of  the  Union,  its 
^National,  District  and  Local  Officers  to  see  that  not  only 
the  letter  but  the  spirit  of  this  contract  shall  be  obeyed. 
Violations  of  the  contract,  such  as  have  occurred  in  the 
past,*^  will  not  be  tolerated,  and  those  responsible  for  agi- 
tating violations  or  other  trouble  will  be  punished  accord- 
ing to  the  provisions  of  the  laws  of  the  Union,  the  intention 
being  that  the  mines  of  the  Company  may  operate  prosper- 
ously and  without  interruption  at  the  highest  possible  pro- 
duction with  competent  industrious  workmen."  Simple 
machinery  is  provided  for  the  adjustment  of  grievances, 
the  base  of  the  system  being  the  Pit  Committee  and  the 
Mine  Foreman,  and  the  apex  an  umpire  selected  by  the 
Presidents  of  the  company  and  of  the  United  Mine  Work- 
ers, whose  decision  is  final.  No  strikes  are  allowed  for 
any  reason,  members  violating  this  rule  having  $2.00  per 
day  deducted  from  their  earnings.  The  company  is  to  be 
fined  for  a  lockout,  at  the  rate  of  $2.00  per  day  for  each 
employee  affected.  Any  employee  who  absents  himself 
from  duty  for  two  days  or  more,  or  who  persists  in  work- 
ing irregularly,  forfeits  his  position.  The  company  is 
to  compensate  any  miner  unjustly  discharged.  Other  sec- 
tions provide  full  regulations  to  cover  such  matters  as  tim- 
bering, docking,  checkweighman,  etc.  The  union  dues  are 
to  be  collected  by  the  company,  as  a  deduction  from  the  pay 
roll.  This  standardizing  of  industrial  relations  is  possible 
only  with  a  strong  and  national  Trade  Union.  Many  em- 
ployers prefer  to  negotiate  with  a  union  agent  rather  than 
with  their  own  men,  as  he  has  a  knowledge  of  the  industry 
as  a  whole  and  is  free  from  local  bias. 

The  plan  of  Shop  Committees  or  Works  Councils,  was 
given  great  impetus  by  the  War  Labor  Board.    Up  to  the 

'  This  refers  to  the  previous  Agreement,  renewed  for  two  yean 
on  April  1,  1920. 


218  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

middle  of  1919,  over  200  plants,  with  500,000  workers, 
were  known  to  have  installed  some  form  of  employees'  rep- 
resentation.^ These  ranged  from  mere  discussion  clubs,  up 
to  the  representative  government  of  the  Filene  store  in 
Boston,  or  the  Procter  and  Gamble  Co.,  with  the  employees 
participating  as  stockholders  and  represented  on  the  Board 
of  Directors.  The  success  of  the  movement  has  been 
equally  various.  Where  honestly  and  carefully  installed, 
with  the  approval  of  the  workers  themselves,  the  plan  has 
tended  to  bring  mutual  understanding  and  harmony.  It 
cannot  safely  be  used  as  a  substitute  for  the  labor  union, 
if  the  men  strongly  desire  a  union.  In  many  cases  re- 
markable results  have  been  achieved,  often  in  connection 
with  some  form  of  profit-sharing.  I  select  an  example 
which  has  been  in  operation  for  a  decade. 

In  1910,  the  Philadelphia  Kapid  Transit  Co.  was  on  the 
verge  of  collapse.  "No  dividends  had  been  paid  for  eight 
years.  Equipment  was  in  shocking  condition,  and  service 
demoralized.  Two  recent  strikes,  resulting  in  rioting  and 
bloodshed,  had  cost  the  company  and  the  city  millions  of 
dollars,  while  the*  men  had  lost  more  than  half  a  million  in 
wages  alone.  Another  strike  was  brewing.  E.  T.  Stotes- 
bury  was  persuaded  to  assume  the  direction  of  the  com- 
pany, as  a  civic  duty,  and  money  found  for  the  purchase 
of  modem  cars.  The  new  management  took  hold  with 
the  understanding  that  in  five  years'  time  it  would  provide 
the  public  with  an  adequate  system  of  transportation,  and 
the  men  with  such  increased  wages  and  improved  working 
conditions  as  cooperation  might  make  possible:  stock- 
holders must  wait  for  returns  until  these  two  questions  had 
been  disposed  of.  The  plan  of  industrial  relations  was 
worked  out  by  Thomas  E.  Mitten,  chairman  of  the  execu- 
tive committee,  on  the  basis  of  his  previous  experience  in 

'Nat.  Indust.  Conf.  Board,  Works  Councils  in  the  U.  8.,  1919; 
New  Jersey  Bureau  of  State  Research,  Shop  Committees  and  Indust. 
Councils,  1919;  Wm.  L.  Stoddard,  The  Shop  Com.,  1919;  John 
Leitch,  Man  to  Man,  1919;  Ordway  Tead  and  Henry  C.  Metcalf, 
Personnel  Administration,  1920. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTEY  219 

Chicago.  Finding  that  about  22%  of  the  gross  passenger 
receipts  were  being  used  in  the  payment  of  wages  and  sick 
benefits,  Mr.  Mitten  had  this  percentage  set  aside  as  a  fund 
from  which  the  men  would  receive  their  compensation. 
Any  increase  in  receipts,  due  to  larger  cars  and  improved 
routing,  or  to  greater  promptness,  honesty  or  courtesy  on 
the  part  of  the  employees,  would  mean  larger  wages  to  the 
men.  The  actual  disposition  of  this  fund  was  put  in  the 
hands  of  the  cooperative  committee,  made  up  of  two  motor- 
men  or  conductors  elected  by  secret  ballot  in  each  of  the 
car  bams,  or  divisions.  These  two  representatives  ar- 
ranged the  runs  made  from  the  barn,  acted  as  a  grievance 
committee  for  the  men,  and  cooperated  with  the  company 
in  the  matter  of  discipline.  Once  a  month  the  committee 
met  as  a  whole,  the  company  being  represented  (without 
vote)  by  the  division  superintendents.  Among  the  matters 
taken  up  were  new  routings  and  time-tables  proposed  by 
the  company,  the  more  important  cases  of  grievance,  the 
management  of  the  cooperative  benefit  and  purchasing 
plans  operated  by  the  men,  and  the  wage  scale  which  would 
be  justified  by  the  condition  of  the  22%  fund.  In  carry- 
ing out  the  plan  the  company  dealt  with  the  men  as  indir 
viduals,  divisions  among  the  employees  making  it  impos^ 
sible  for  Mr.  Mitten  to  deal  directly  with  the  union  as  he 
had  done  in  Chicago.  The  understanding  was  that  the 
latter  plan  would  be  followed  whenever  two-thirds  of  the 
men  so  voted. 

Two  strikes  were  attempted,  but  caused  no  serious  inter- 
ruption to  service.  The  second,  in  1918,  was  investigated 
by  the  War  Labor  Board,  which  dismissed  the  complaint. 
On  the  advice  of  this  body,  the  22%  wage  fund  was  abol- 
ished, in  order  to  bring  wages  up  to  the  current  scale. 
Other  modifications  were  made  at  this  time.  The  cooper- 
ative plan  was  extended  to  all  departments  of  the  company, 
joint  committees  taking  the  place  of  the  former  commit- 
tees of  employees.  In  cases  of  controversy,  representatives 
of  employer  and  'employees  were  to  vote  separately,  by 


220  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

secret  ballot.  Final  settlement  was  vested  in  a  Board  of 
Arbitration. 

The  results  of  the  Stotesbury-Mitten  plan  were  very  re- 
markable. In  the  first  three  years,  resignations  were  re- 
duced from  1,390  to  337,  and  dismissals  from  1  in  6  to  1 
in  20.  The  average  wage  of  conductors  and  motormen  was 
increased  from  23  cents  an  hour  in  1911  to  31  cents  in 
1916,  43  cents  in  July,  1918,  and  58  cents  in  1919.  The 
gross  earnings  of  the  company  increased  89%.  The  rate 
of  fare  for  the  public  had  not  been  raised.  The  average 
rides  per  capita  in  Philadelphia  increased  from  288  in 
1910  to  over  425  in  1919.  In  other  words,  an  increase  in 
wages  of  150%  had  been  matched  by  120%  increase  in 
production.  The  number  of  accidents  was  cut  in  half. 
The  employees  developed  into  what  Mr.  Mitten  has  called 
"the  most  courteous,  careful,  and  efficient  body  of  motor- 
men  and  conductors  in  America."  Of  a  force  of  about 
10,000,  over  99%  were  members  of  the  Cooperative  Wel- 
fare Association,  which  furnished  a  blanket  life  insurance 
policy  of  $1,000  at  a  cost  of  $1.00  per  month,  in  addition 
to  sick  benefits  and  pensions.^ 

In  the  Government  Arsenals,  the  signing  of  the  Armis- 
tice threatened  a  serious  reduction  of  business  and  em- 
ployment. Permission  was  given  by  the  Secretary  of 
War  for  the  arsenals  to  bid  on  the  peace-time  require- 
ments of  the  government  departments,  in  competition  with 
private  concerns.  The  shop  committees  which  had  been 
already  introduced,  with  the  backing  of  the  unions,  began 
to  take  on  new  and  interesting  functions.  When  a  proposal 
for  a  bid  is  received  by  an  arsenal,  "the  employees'  com- 
mitteemen become  immediately  active.  First,  it  is  decided 
by  the  central  committee  whether  its  arsenal  can  manufac- 
ture the  article  upon  which  bids  are  sought.  Manifestly  it 
is  to  the  employee's  interest  to  get  the  work  for  his  particu- 
lar arsenal,  since  the  tenure  of  his  employment  depends 

*Commi88.  on  Indust.  ReVs,  1916,  3,  2733  ^;  The  Cooperative 
Plan  of  the  P.  R.  T.,  1918;  Year  Booh,  1919. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY  221 

upon  securing  enough  work  to  prevent  further  reduction 
in  the  arsenal  force.  The  tendency  of  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  arsenal  is  naturally  and  properly  toward  con- 
servatism ;  if  the  proposal  is  for  work  rather  aside  from  the 
usual  lines  of  manufacture  in  his  arsenal,  he  inclines  to 
play  safe ;  that  is,  either  not  to  bid,  or  to  bid  fairly  high 
to  avoid  loss.  The  employees  incline  to  bid  low  to  get  the 
work  done  and  hold  their  jobs.  The  result  actually  reached 
is  that  the  employees  investigate  with  great  care  the  possi- 
bilities of  economic  manufacture  of  the  particular  article 
being  considered.  The  best  men  on  each  process  which 
will  be  involved  if  the  contract  is  secured  are  consulted, 
and,  in  effect,  the  combined  experience  and  resourceful- 
ness of  the  employees  is  massed  on  the  problem.  Re- 
peatedly the  estimates  of  the  employees  on  labor  costs  have 
been  so  low  as  to  give  pause  to  the  commanding  officer  and 
the  planning  department,  which  advises  him.  The  em- 
ployees then  are  put  in  the  position  of  definite  responsi- 
bility for  their  own  estimates  of  the  performance  which 
they  can  deliver.  They  virtually  guarantee  the  estimates  as 
to  direct  labor  costs — in  fact,  in  at  least  one  instance  the 
employees  were  required  by  the  ordinance  officer  in  charge 
of  the  shop  to  guarantee  in  writing  to  meet  an  estimate 
which  they  had  made  and  which  he  believed  to  be  too 
low.  Not  an  instance  has  occurred  thus  far  in  which  the 
employees  have  not  held  labor  cost  below  their  estimate." 
With  the  change  in  function  of  the  workers'  organization, 
has  come  a  change  in  the  character  of  the  union  leadership, 
good  fighters  giving  place  to  men  with  ability  as  produc- 
tive workmen.  ^^ 

In  September,  1910,  a  Protocol  or  treaty  of  peace  was 
signed  in  the  Ladies'  Garment  Industry  in  New  York 
City,  after  many  years  of  warfare  and  a  general  strike  of 
unusual  bitterness.  The  contracting  parties  were  the 
Cloak,  Suit  and  Skirt  Manufacturers'  Protective  Associ- 
ation, and  certain  locals  of  the  International  Ladies'  Gar- 

"  Industrial  Democ.  at  Rock  Island,  Nation,  Sept.  13,  1919. 


222  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

ment  Workers'  Union.  As  the  union  had  insisted  on  a 
closed  shop  and  the  employers  on  an  open  shop,  Mr.  Bran- 
deis'  suggestion  of  a  preferential  shop  was  made  the  basis 
of  compromise.  Under  this  arrangement,  "the  employer  is 
bound  to  maintain  union  standards  as  to  hours,  etc.,  and 
to  give  the  preference  in  employing  and  retaining  help  to 
union  members.  On  their  side  the  unions  are  bound  to 
maintain  discipline  in  the  shop  among  their  members,  to 
restrain  them  from  breaches  of  contract  and  unauthorized 
strikes,  and  to  see  that  they  live  up  to  the  conditions  of  the 
Protocol;  in  other  words,  in  return  for  the  preference 
shown  them,  the  unions  assume  full  responsibility  for  the 
conduct  of  their  members."  ^^  Subcontracting  within  the 
shop  and  the  taking  of  work  home  were  forbidden,  thus 
doing  away  with  the  sweatshop  and  the  tenement  worker. 
Minor  abuses  in  shop  practice  were  corrected,  a  minimum 
wage-scale  established,  and  a  50-hour  week.  Strikes  and 
lockouts  were  prohibited  during  the  life  of  the  treaty,  for 
which  there  was  no  time  limit. 

Three  joint  bodies  were  set  up  by  the  Protocol.  The 
Board  of  Sanitary  Control  was  to  establish  standards  for 
the  industry.  Because  of  the  character  of  its  personnel, 
and  the  efficiency  of  the  director.  Dr.  Geo.  M.  Price,  its 
work  was  remarkably  efficient.  A  systematic  inspection  of 
the  1,243  shops  in  'New  York  City,  showed  that  about  two- 
thirds  were  defective  either  in  sanitation,  fire  protection, 
or  both.  At  the  end  of  six  months,  only  54  of  these  re- 
mained unimproved.  Under  the  terms  of  the  agreement, 
no  member  of  the  union  would  work  in  a  shop  declared 
unsanitary,  and  no  manufacturer  would  give  out  work  for 
this  shop  to  do.  The  erring  employer  either  complied  with 
the  recommendations  of  the  Board,  or  was  forced  out  of 
business.  Twenty-seven  such  "sanitary  strikes"  occurred 
within  the  first  year.    Thus  both  the  worker  and  the  em- 

"  Chas.  H.  Winslow,  Bur.  of  Labor  Statistics,  Bull  98,  1912,  203. 
See  also  Bull's  144  and  145,  1914;  Monthly  Review,  Dec,  1917,  19; 
Julius  H.  Cohen,  Law  and  Order  in  Industry,  1916. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY  223 

ployer  were  protected  against  the  cut-throat  competition 
of  unscnipulous  firms. 

The  Board  of  Arbitration,  made  up  of  such  distin- 
guished names  as  Louis  D.  Brandeis,  Hamilton  Holt  and 
Morris  Hillquit,  acted  as  a  court  of  appeal,  chiefly  confin- 
ing itself,  however,  to  differences  which  arose  between  the 
manufacturers'  association  and  the  union.  The  Board  of 
Grievances,  consisting  of  five  members  from  each  side, 
served  as  a  trade  court.  Of  the  1,004  cases  adjusted  in 
the  first  year,  Y98  were  settled  by  the  deputy  clerks,  act- 
ing as  a  joint  mediation  committee,  202  by  the  Board  it- 
self, and  4  appealed  to  the  Board  of  Arbitration. 

The  weakness  of  the  system,  as  events  proved,  lay  in 
the  bi-partisan  character  of  the  trade  court,  and  the  lack 
of  any  body  of  law  on  which  to  base  its  decisions.  The  ma- 
chinery broke  down  after  five  years,  ostensibly  on  the  issue 
of  the  employer's  right  to  discharge  competent  union  work- 
men, but  actually  because  of  impatience  on  both  sides  with 
the  moderate  progress  made  in  raising  business  standards 
and  conditions. 

The  attempt  to  introduce  a  constitution  into  the  industry 
was  not  lost.  Collective  bargaining  continued  in  the 
Cloak  and  Suit  trade,  under  various  forms  of  agreement. 
The  Protocol  idea  had  been  adopted  by  other  branches  of 
the  Ladies'  Garment  industry,  in  most  of  which  it  is  still 
in  force.  Robert  W.  Bruere,  who  acted  on  the  Board  of 
Arbitration  in  the  Waist  and  Dress  group,  has  given  inter- 
esting testimony  as  to  the  effect  of  industrial  parliaments. 
Discussion,  and  adjustment  on  the  basis  of  evidence,  was 
substituted  for  strikes  and  lockouts,  which  until  a  few 
years  ago  kept  the  largest  of  our  clothing  industries  in  a 
state  of  perpetual  turmoil.  "I  have  seen  employers  and 
workers  come  together  in  the  meetings  of  wage  boards, 
tense  with  bitterness  and  hostility.  I  have  heard  them 
wrangle  for  hours  over  charges  of  bad  faith  and  have 
seen  them  grow  calm  and  reasonable  as  the  questioning  of 
the  chairman  brought  out  the  facts  on  both  sides  and  de- 


324  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

veloped  the  basis  for  an  understanding.  Often  both  sides 
will  show  an  unexpected  readiness  to  subordinate  what 
they  had  considered  their  absolute  rights  in  the  premises 
to  the  larger  interests  of  the  industry,  and  to  recognize 
themselves  and  one  another,  not  so  much  as  enemies  fight- 
ing for  a  stake,  but  as  industrial  citizens  with  a  common 
interest  in  the  prosperity  of  the  trade  and  a  common  re- 
sponsibility to  the  public."  ^^ 

A  parallel  movement  took  place  in  the  Men's  Garment 
trade.  It  began  with  the  Hart,  Schaffner  and  Marx  agree- 
ment, which  has  had  a  continuous  life  since  February, 
1911,  with  modifications  and  improvements,  but  without 
any  serious  break.  The  plan  has  since  been  adopted  by 
other  shops,  and  by  clothing  centers  outside  of  Chicago.^* 
This  firm,  which  employs  about  6,500  workers,  is  now 
governed  by  the  principle  of  the  preferential  union  shop, 
a  large  proportion  of  the  employees  being  members  of  the 
union.  Each  floor  of  their  factories,  containing  from  100 
to  200  workers,  has  a  shop  chairman,  elected  by  the  union 
members.  He  is  recognized  as  an  officer  of  the  union,  in 
charge  of  complaints  and  organization  matters  within  the 
shop.  Complaints  are  first  taken  up  by  the  shop  chairman 
with  the  foreman  or  superintendent.  If  no  satisfaction  ia 
obtained,  the  case  is  reported  to  the  union,  which  employs 
four  deputies,  or  business  agents,  one  for  each  trade  (coats, 
vests,  trousers  and  cutting.)  The  proper  deputy,  after 
making  an  investigation,  takes  up  the  matter  with  the 
firm's  labor  manager,  a  university  professor  trained  in 
Economics  and  given  very  broad  powers.  He  is  in  charge 
of  Health  and  Safety,  Education,  Employment,  Disci- 
pline, and  Wages  and  Eate  Setting.  He  acts  as  the  diplo- 
matic agent  of  the  firm  in  all  matters  involving  the  labor 
force.     Rates  for  piece  work  are  set  by  a  committee  of 

^Mecmitiff  of  the  Minimum  Wage,  Harpers  Mag.,  132,  282,  Jan., 
1916. 

"Bur.  of  Labor  Statistics,  Bull.  198,  1916;  New  Jersey  Bur.  of 
State  Research,  Shop  Corn's  and  Jndttst.  Counoils,  July,  1&19,  pp. 
28,  34,  52. 


DEMOCEACY  IN  INDUSTRY       225 

three,  one  representing  each  side  and  a  third  member  whom 
they  select.  Cases  where  the  piece-rate  committee,  or  the 
deputy  and  labor  manager,  fail  to  agree,  are  carried  to  the 
Trade  Board  of  the  Chicago  clothing  industry.  This 
Board  consists  of  an  impartial  chairman,  and  of  ^ve  repre- 
sentatives of  each  side,  who  practically  argue  the  case  be- 
fore him.  The  impartial  chairman,  paid  jointly  by  the 
manufacturers  and  the  union,  is  a  man  of  the  highest  char- 
acter, chosen  for  his  business  acumen  and  diplomatic  skill. 
The  firm's  records  as  to  costs,  profits,  etc.,  are  placed  at 
his  disposal,  and  his  decisions  are  usually  final.  A  Board 
of  Arbitration  is  added,  for  questions  involving  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  agreement.  Back  of  the  entire  plan,  on 
paper  and  in  practice,  is  the  idea  of  cooperation  in  pro- 
duction, and  a  community  of  interest. 

By  the  middle  of  1919,  this  form  of  collective  bargain- 
ing had  come  to  include  practically  the  entire  industry.  A 
national  agreement  between  the  manufacturers'  associa- 
tion and  the  Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers  was  in  pros- 
pect. Makers  of  high-grade  clothing  found  the  stabiliz- 
ing of  labor  and  improvement  of  working  conditions  a 
great  advantage.  But  the  small  amount  of  capital  required 
in  the  business,  the  growth  of  subcontracting,  and  the  sup- 
ply of  immigrant  workers  available  in  normal  times,  make 
it  diflScult  for  either  the  employers  or  the  union  to  control 
the  smaller  shops.  Conditions  in  the  N"ew  York  market 
have  been  particularly  chaotic. 

The  unions  in  the  needle  trades,  which  we  have  been 
describing,  are  organized  on  industrial  rather  than  craft 
lines.  They  are  extremely  democratic,  and  characterized 
by  Socialism  of  a  radical  but  idealistic  type.  They  form, 
as  has  been  said,  "a  spiritual  brotherhood,  based  upon  a 
common  aspiration."  ^*  Their  attitude  towards  the  cloth- 
ing industry  is  that  of  future  proprietors,  rather  than 
mere  hired  men.  Efficiency  methods,  for  example,  at 
which  the  old  unionist  looks  askance,  are  cordially  accepted. 

*•  J.  M.  Budish  and  Gl€o.  Soule,  The  New  Unionism,  1920,  157. 


226  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

Their  remarkable  educational  program  aims  at  a  broad  cul- 
ture and  tbe  mental  emancipation  of  the  working  class, 
so  that  they  may  be  made  ready  to  assume  control  of  pro- 
duction. As  one  observer  has  said :  "The  chief  struggle  of 
the  far-sighted  leadership  among  the  Amalgamated  Cloth- 
ing Workers  is  to  keep  in  line  the  impatient  extremists  who 
are  not  satisfied  with  steady  growth,  but  want  the  mil- 
lennium by  tomorrow  afternoon."  ^^  What  interests  us  here 
is  the  view  of  the  new  unionism  that  industry,  even  in  its 
present  stage,  is  a  form  of  community  service.  The  con- 
vention of  1920  put  itself  in  line  with  the  old-time  crafts- 
men by  declaring  for  definite  standards  of  production,  in 
connection  with  the  policy  of  payment  by  the  week  rather 
than  by  the  piece.  In  the  course  of  the  debate,  Pres.  Sid- 
ney Hillman,  who  might  be  termed  the  father  both  of  the 
Hart,  Schaffner  and  Marx  agreement  and  of  the  Amalga- 
mated Clothing  Workers,  said:  "For  myself,  I  do  not 
think  that  our  union  can  adopt  the  ordinary  rule  of  com- 
merce, the  principle  of  the  business  man,  which  is  to  give 
as  little  as  possible  and  to  take  as  much  as  possible.  We 
must  have  a  different  attitude  toward  the  industry.  We 
must  accept  responsibility  for  production.  We  cannot 
have  sabotage  by  withholding  production :  we  cannot  have 
loafing;  we  must  have  production  and  we  must  recognize 
our  responsibility."  ^*  In  the  agreement  drawn  up  be- 
tween four  silk  ribbon  manufacturers  in  !N"ew  York,  and 
weavers  affiliated  with  the  new  Amalgamated  Textile 
Workers,  which  grew  out  of  the  second  Lawrence  strike, 
we  find  this  statement :  "Public  interest  requires  increas- 
ing production  as  a  prime  factor  in  reducing  commodity 
prices.  Wages,  hours  and  working  conditions  should  be 
regulated  by  this  requirement."  ^"^ 

All  of  these  plans  for  cooperation  in  American  industry 
are  confessedly  experimental.     Most  of  them  have  yet  to 

"Baker,  New  Industrial  Urvresf,  1920,  197. 
"  Swrvey,  44,  275,  May  22,  1920. 
"/<Z.,  44,  233,  May  15,  1920. 


DEMOCKACY  IN  INDUSTEY  227 

be  tested  in  a  period  of  labor  surplus  and  decreasing  wages. 
The  factor  of  personal  temperament  and  prejudice  enters, 
as  in  all  human  relations.  "Employee  representation," 
as  the  Industrial  Conference  said,  "offers  no  royal  road  to 
industrial  peace."  But  the  movement  outlined  in  this 
chapter  shows  that  goodwill  is  as  important  an  element  in 
Industry  as  we  have  seen  it  to  be  in  Trade.  As  Commons 
puts  it :  "The  laborer  is  not  only  a  productive  machine,  he 
is  a  customer.  The  employer  is  not  only  buying  his  time 
or  his  product,  but  is  also  selling  to  him  a  job  where  he 
can  earn  a  living.  The  employer  makes  a  certain  invest- 
ment on  behalf  of  every  customer  and  every  employee.  He 
furnishes  something  in  exchange,  and  he  not  only  wants 
that  customer  or  worker  to  return,  satisfied  with  his  treat- 
ment, but  also  to  spread  the  word  and  bring  others.  Good- 
will is  good  reputation,  and  reputation  is  the  collective 
opinion  of  those  whose  patronage  is  desired.  ...  So  indus- 
trial goodwill  is  a  valuable  .asset  like  commercial  goodwill 
and  good  credit,  and  becomes  so,  more  and  more,  in  pro- 
portion as  laborers  acquire  more  liberty,  power,  intelli- 
gence and  more  inclination  to  assert  their  liberties.  It  too 
is  valuable  because  it  brings  larger  profits  and  lifts  the 
employer  somewhat  above  the  level  of  competing  employers 
by  giving  him  a  more  productive  labor  force  than  theirs  in 
proportion  to  the  wages  paid.  And  this  larger  profit  re- 
flects itself  in  the  larger  value  of  stocks  and  bonds,  the 
higher  capitalization  of  the  going  business."  ^^ 

What  the  future  will  bring  in  the  way  of  economic  and 
social  reorganization,  we  do  not  know.  All  our  theories 
and  programs  are  tentative  and  must  be  continually  re- 
vised. Fortunately  I  am  not  called  on  in  this  book  to  at- 
tempt the  ambitious  and  dangerous  work  of  prediction. 
'Not  have  I  attempted  to  settle  any  specific  industrial 
problems.  I  have  a  keen  personal  interest  in  these  problems 
and  their  solution.  But  our  attitude,  as  I  stated  at  the 
beginning  of  this  Section,  is  the  open-mindedness  of  the 

"•John  R.  Commons,  Industrial  Goodwill,  1919,  18,  26. 


228  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

scientific  investigator,  rather  than  the  opportunism  of 
the  judge,  who  is  obliged  to  render  a  decision  on  every 
question,  whether  the  evidence  is  ample  or  not. 

Our  concern  is  with  the  nature  of  the  Universe  in  which 
we  live,  and  the  conditions  of  successful  adjustment.  The 
idea  I  have  tried  to  bring  out  is  that  the  fundamental 
problem  of  Industry  is  the  problem  of  human  behavior. 
We  are  dealing  with  men  and  women,  whose  conduct  is 
very  largely  determined  by  certain  inherited  instincts  as 
motives  of  action.  IN'o  solution  can  be  final  which  fails 
to  give  these  instincts  full  expression. 

"We  hear  much,"  says  Tead,  "of  'humanizing'  our  in- 
dustrial system.  What  is  involved  in  this  is  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  a  discovery  of  personalities,  a  knowledge  of 
their  human  natures,  and  an  effort  to  give  those  natures  a 
chance.  .  .  .  The  individual  is  now  seen  as  a  compact 
of  ascertainable  impulses,  who  acts  as  he  does  because 
known  forces,  external  and  internal,  are  at  work  to  influ- 
ence his  behavior.  .  .  .  The  conduct  of  groups  in  industry, 
like  that  of  individuals,  is  also  to  be  more  readily  under- 
stood when  we  know  even  a  little  about  the  moving  energies 
out  of  which  it  proceeds.  This  means  of  course,  that  a 
change  in  causes  will  bring  a  change  in  effects.  And  ex- 
perience shows  that  this  is  true.  .  .  .  Conduct,  if  sub- 
ject to  law,  can  be  controlled  if  we  can  control  its  causes. 
Human  nature  will  respond  in  varying  ways  to  varying 
stimuli,  and  if  we  supply  a  stimulus  which  is  calculated 
to  evoke  only  the  more  socially  beneficent  impulses  of  hu- 
man beings  (assuming  that  we  know  which  these  are),  we 
can  rely  upon  the  desired  reactions  taking  place."  ^® 

If  the  Universe  lays  down  certain  laws  of  human  be- 
havior, certain  conditions  of  action  and  reaction,  the  lead- 
ers of  Management  and  Labor  may  be  expected,  after  long 
and  painful  experimenting,  to  learn  those  laws  and  condi- 
tions, and  adjust  their  action  accordingly.  That,  I  believe, 
is  what  we  are  witnessing  in  many  parts  of  the  industrial 

*»Ordway  Tead,  InstmoU  in  Industry,  1918,  215  //. 


DEMOCRACY  IN  INDUSTRY  229 

world,  at  home  and  abroad.  The  corporation  or  the  labor 
group  which  follows  the  principles  of  justice,  goodwill 
and  mutual  service,  has  attained  a  survival  value.  It  is 
giving  free  play  to  natural  motives  of  conduct,  opening 
channels  for  instincts  which,  if  repressed,  become  abnor- 
mal, dangerous  and  expensive.  A  process  of  natural  selec- 
tion, aided  by  group  responsibility  and  public  supervision, 
will  tend  to  force  other  groups  into  line.  Cooperation  in 
industry  is  selfishness  and  something  more.  It  is  self-in- 
terest raised  to  the  plane  of  common  interest. 

Recent  industrial  history  thus  confirms  in  a  striking 
way  the  principles  which  Jesus  lays  down  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  Universe.  Obedience  to  the  laws  determined  by 
the  moral  and  altruistic  character  of  God,  means  an  or- 
derly and  increasingly  fruitful  advance,  which  will  pre- 
serve in  the  new  order  the  best  of  the  present  order.  Pro- 
duction may  be  expected  to  increase,  both  in  quantity  and 
quality.  Human  instincts,  instead  of  being  thwarted  or 
misdirected,  will  be  given  free  scope.  But  the  attainment 
of  this  end  will  require  sounder  knowledge  of  human  be- 
havior and  a  higher  moral  leadership  than  either  the  capi- 
talist or  the  labor  group  as  a  whole  has  thus  far  shown. 

One  possible  objection  may  be  made  to  my  interpreta- 
tion of  the  facts.  I  refer  to  profiteering,  or  making  money 
out  of  monopoly  or  special  privilege.  This  has  always  been 
present  in  any  industrial  order  of  which  we  have  knowl- 
edge; it  has  been  common  throughout  the  modem  era, 
and  especially  rampant  during  the  War  period.  But 
that  such  action  is  not  normal  to  the  Universe,  is  shown  by 
the  absurdity  of  imagining  every  person  a  profiteer.  Fair 
dealing,  the  return  of  a  full  value  of  service  to  the  pur- 
chaser, has  come  to  be,  like  justice  and  honesty,  a  com- 
munity standard.  It  is  the  base-line  of  our  industrial  life. 
One  of  the  aims  of  Society,  in  the  interest  of  its  economic 
health,  has  been  the  curtailment  of  extrinsic  or  unearned 
advantage,  and  the  equalizing  of  opportunity.  In  any 
sphere,  shrewdness  and  application  will  bring  results,  as 


230  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

in  the  cases  already  cited  of  the  "bad"  mechanic  or  the 
cruel  general.^^  The  profiteer  in  the  ranks  of  Capital  or 
Labor  may  have  reached  his  immediate  objective:  easy 
money.  But  in  doing  so  he  has  come  perilously  near  to 
wrecking  the  whole  industrial  machine.  And  he  has  been 
in  danger,  as  Jesus  says,  of  losing  his  own  soul.  Such  a 
course  of  procedure  can  hardly  be  called  success,  from  a 
cosmic  standpoint. 

"See  ante  p.  144. 


PAET  III. 
THE  MOEALITY  OF  THE  UN^IVEESE. 
Section  3.  National  Relations. 
XX. 

NATIOlTAIi  AGGBESSION. 

We  now  pass  to  the  field  of  national  relations,  which  will 
occupy  us  during  the  remainder  of  our  hook.  Is  there  any 
evidence  that  justice  and  goodwill  bring  the  same  reflex 
advantage,  as  in  personal  and  industrial  life?  In  other 
words,  must  national  groups  follow  the  laws  of  a  moral 
and  altruistic  Universe  ?  Is  the  Christian  God  a  Partner 
who  needs  to  be  reckoned  with  in  international  affairs? 

We  may  dismiss,  at  the  outset,  the  idea  that  God  has 
been  directing  human  history,  as  Lloyd  George  directs  the 
British  Empire,  or  Judge  Gary  directs  the  Steel  Trust.  If 
this  were  true,  if  God  could  be  held  responsible  for  the 
course  of  our  political  life  from  the  beginning,  He  would 
be  either  impotent  or  immoral.  But  for  such  Super-man- 
agement there  is  absolutely  no  evidence.  This  is  not  to 
deny  that  God  is  a  Person,  sharing  in  human  struggles  and 
interested  in  their  outcome.  The  whole  problem  of  Per- 
sonality has  been  excluded  from  the  present  book.  On  any 
theology,  we  find  man  and  the  Universe  cooperating.  What 
we  may  expect  to  find,  as  in  Organic  Evolution,  in  Culture, 
Providence  or  Industry,  is  a  wide  experimenting,  a  limited 
laissez  faire.  E'ations,  like  individuals,  are  in  daily  con- 
tact with  the  Divine  activity.     In  order  to  survive,  they 

231 


832  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

must  adjust  themselves  to  a  Universe  of  definite  character. 
The  conditions  of  survival,  if  we  can  determine  them,  will 
throw  added  light  on  what  that  character  is. 

Two  contrasting  theories  of  national  relations  are  be- 
fore us.  According  to  Jesus'  principle  the  strength  of  a 
nation,  in  its  dealings  with  other  nations  or  with  subject 
peoples,  depends  on  fair  dealing  and  the  development  of 
common  interest  and  mutual  service.  The  theory  gener- 
ally current  is  the  exact  opposite  of  this.  Assuming  a 
competition  of  selfish  interests,  it  asserts  or  implies  that 
national  advantage  is  due  to  self-seeking,  mastery  and  ex- 
ploitation. 

We  find  a  natural  center  for  discussion  in  the  history  of 
modem  Germany,  from  Bismarck's  masterful  but  un- 
scrupulous attacks  on  Denmark,  Austria  and  France,  by 
which  he  laid  the  foundations  for  a  strong  Empire  under 
Prussian  leadership,  to  the  later  development  of  "the  will 
to  power"  which  resulted  in  the  World  War.  In  studying 
the  policy  of  force  and  aggression,  in  this  extreme  form, 
let  us  examine  its  supposed  biological  basis,  its  theory  of 
the  State,  and  its  practical  consequences. 

By  one  of  the  ironies  of  history,  two  very  peaceful  and 
amiable  English  philosophers  were  responsible  for  the  re- 
cent conflict.  The  economic  and  political  thought  of 
modern  Germany  had  been  nourished  on  the  idea  of 
struggle  emphasized  by  Malthus  and  Darwin.  Nowhere 
had  the  cult  of  ISTatural  Selection  gained  a  stronger  hold. 

Population,  according  to  this  theory,  tended  to  increase 
faster  than  the  means  of  subsistence.  In  the  resulting 
struggle,  the  stronger  crushed  the  weaker.  The  field  was 
left  in  possession  of  those  who  were  fitted  to  survive.  It 
wis  on  this  law  of  Nature  that  progress  depended.  It  ap- 
plied to  nations  as  well  as  to  individuals  and  species.  Self- 
defense  required  Germany  to  extend  her  power  through  the 
world,  by  force  and  without  scruple.  Otherwise  there 
would  be  no  assured  market  for  the  Empire's  expanding 
trade,  no  outlet  for  her  surplus  population.    Her  progress 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  233 

would  be  ended,  her  world  mission  cut  short.  She  would 
sink  to  the  position  of  a  second-rate  and  stationary  nation. 
Believed  with  startling  unanimity,  not  only  by  the  govern- 
ing classes,  but  by  the  German  people  as  a  whole,  and  to  a 
less  but  still  significant  degree  by  the  statesmen  and  politi- 
cal philosophers  of  other  countries,  the  doctrine  called  for 
war,  and  there  was  war. 

The  pathetic  feature  of  the  situation  was  that  the 
teachings  of  Malthus  and  Darwin  are  not  true.  Their 
authority  was  no  longer  accepted  by  progressive  scientists, 
even  in  the  land  of  their  birth.  Germany  heroically  com- 
mitted suicide  for  economic  and  biological  doctrines  that 
were  as  out  of  date  as  scarlet  uniforms  or  smoky  powder. 

The  Malthusian  theory  of  population  never  was  univer- 
sally accepted  by  economists,  and  does  not  seem  to  fit  the 
facts  of  modem  history.  It  has  broken  down  at  both  ends. 
With  the  advance  of  civilized  people  in  standards  of  liv- 
ing, and  especially  of  comfort,  the  population  does  not 
tend  to  increase  in  a  geometrical  ratio.  The  birth-rate  in 
Germany  was  decreasing,  and  more  rapidly  than  that  of 
Britain  or  France.  On  the  other  hand,  with  the  progress  in 
agricultural  science  and  the  opening  up  of  new  lands,  the 
food  supply  of  the  world  has  increased  very  much  faster 
than  Malthus  supposed  possible.  Thus  the  increase  of 
population  in  any  country  is  either  absorbed  by  industrial 
enterprises,  or  distributed  through  emigration  to  countries 
where  the  factory  system  has  created  a  demand  for  labor. 
In  no  developed  civilization,  in  1914,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  Japan,  was  there  a  real  pressure  of  popula- 
tion on  subsistence.  Germany,  for  two  and  a  half  decades 
before  the  War,  had  so  far  absorbed  her  increase,  that  emi- 
gration averaged  under  30,000  a  year.  In  1913,  although 
the  excess  of  births  over  deaths  was  879,113,  only  25,843 
people  left  the  country.  In  fact  Germany  was  short  of 
labor.  Not  only  were  the  estates  of  East  Prussia  largely 
cultivated  by  Kussian  Poles,  of  whom  many  thousands 
were  brought  across  the  border  during  the  summer  season, 


234  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

but  she  was  using  Slavs  and  Italians  in  her  mines  and  other 
industries.'^ 

As  pointed  out  in  an  eariier  chapter,^  Darwin's  theory  of 
progress  through  natural  selection  has  been  rejected  by  the 
newer  school  of  Biology.  Bitter  struggle  for  existence  is 
not  necessary,  even  in  wild  Nature.  In  the  words  of  T.  H. 
Morgan,  "If  we  suppose  that  new  mutations  .  .  .  appear, 
some  of  which  will  find  an  environment  to  which  they  are 
more  or  less  well  fitted,  we  can  see  how  evolution  may  have 
gone  on  without  assuming  new  species  to  have  been 
formed  through  a  process  of  competition."  ^  If  the  doc- 
trine of  progress  through  struggle  has  lost  its  standing  in 
Biology,  it  can  no  longer  be  used  as  a  basis  for  political 
theory  and  practice. 

From  the  supposed  biological  basis  of  the  competition 
theory,  I  turn  to  the  political  doctrine  underlying  it. 
Briefly  stated,  individuals  exist  in  and  for  the  State,  and 
are  benefited  in  proportion  to  the  strength  of  the  State, 
in  a  military  sense.  As  Kuno  Francke  has  expressed  the 
German  ideal ;  "By  summoning  all  her  powers — physical, 
intellectual,  spiritual — against  the  ruin  threatened  by 
foreign  dominion,  Germany,  under  Prussian  leadership, 
once  more  rose  to  political  greatness.  A  new  and  exalted 
conception  of  the  State, — a  State  uniting  in  itself  all  ideal 
aspirations  of  the  people,  making  national  progress,  cul- 
ture and  achievement  the  supreme  goal  of  individual  exer- 
tion— inspired  the  best  Germans  throughout  the  nine- 
teenth century  and  finally  led  to  the  founding  of  the  new 
Empire  and  to  the  recent  epoch  of  German  prominence 
among  the  nations  of  Europe."  * 

The  foundations  of  German  political  and  economic 
theory  were  laid  by  Friedrich  List,  in  his  Ndtiomil  System 

*The  prospect  of  a  check  to  Germany's  industrial  development, 
Bufficiently  serious  to  renew  the  emigration  of  earlier  years,  was 
due,  as  we  shall  see,  to  the  nation's  adoption  of  the  doctrine  of 
ruthless  struggle.    It  is  a  case  of  the  theory  devouring  the  theorist. 

'Ante,  p.  54. 

*  Evolution  and  Adaptation,  1903,  464. 

*The  German  Spirit,  1916,  95. 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  235 

of  Political  Economy,  published  in  1841.  In  opposition 
\o  Adam  Smith's  free  trade  doctrines,  List  advocated  the 
full  development  of  Germany's  productive  powers,  under 
a  system  of  protective  tariffs  which  would  make  the  nation 
self-sufficient.  This  policy  was  followed  more  or  less  con- 
sistently, after  the  political  revolution  of  1878.  Many 
other  factors  contributed  to  subordinate  the  individual  to 
the  State:  the  habit  of  obedience  to  authority  among  the 
German  people,  the  metaphysical  and  mystical  character 
of  German  thinking,  the  hegemony  of  Prussia,  with  its 
absolutist  traditions  and  its  ruling  Junker  caste,  the  per- 
sonal character  and  ambitions  of  William  II.  Universal 
military  service,  which  had  been  adopted  by  Prussia  as 
early  as  1808,  trained  the  population  to  obey.  The  school 
system  was  made  to  serve  the  same  purpose,  both  in  direct 
instruction,  and  in  its  system  of  vocational  training,  by 
which  each  person  was  educated  for  the  special  position 
he  was  to  occupy  in  life.  The  German,  however  humble 
his  calling,  was  taught  to  feel  the  duty  and  responsibility 
of  making  Germany  strong.  He  found  patriotic  compen- 
sations in  the  self-abnegation  which  would  help  to  bring 
DeutscJiland  uber  alles.  There  were  rifts  in  the  political 
structure.  But  hitherto  Socialistic  independence  had  been 
bought  off  by  paternal  social  legislation.  And  the  Marxian 
idea  of  the  State  is  on  the  same  plane  with  that  of  the  Pan- 
German. 

A  political  theory  may  be  tested  in  two  ways,  either 
logically  or  pragmatically.  We  may  take  it,  in  the  first 
place,  as  an  induction  from  the  facts  ^of  experience.  By 
this  test,  the  doctrine  of  the  supremacy  of  the  State  must 
appear  to  us  anachronistic.  It  is  a  survival,  in  the  modern 
industrial  and  commercial  era,  of  the  absolutist  ideas  of 
mediaeval  Europe,  which  in  turn  were  an  outgrowth  of 
the  patriarchal  organization  of  society.  With  the  growth 
of  popular  government,  following  the  French  Revolution, 
the  State  came  to  be  regarded  as  existing  for  the  individual. 
The  primary  function  of  government,  in  democratic  and 


'236  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

industrial  countries,  has  been  to  encourage  individual  en- 
terprise and  protect  individual  interests.  Outside  of  Ger- 
many and  similar  dynastic  nations,  a  consistent  doctrine  of 
the  authority  of  the  State  would  not  have  been  thought  of, 
nor  is  it  readily  comprehended. 

According  to  the  pragmatic  test,  any  political  theory 
is  true  if  it  works  well  in  practice.  This  brings  us  to  the 
practical  results  of  the  competition  theory,  which  I  am 
about  to  discuss.  Let  me  call  attention  to  the  fact  that,  in 
the  form  of  economic  nationalism,  this  general  idea  of  the 
State  is  widely  current.  It  may  be  stated  in  this  way. 
While  individuals  do  not  exist  for  the  sake  of  the  State, 
they  are  benefited  economically  in  proportion  to  the 
strength  of  the  State,  in  a  military  sense.  This  idea  finds 
embodiment,  not  only  in  strong  armies  and  navies,  but  in 
preferential  tariffs  and  subsidized  industries.  It  is  the 
key-note  of  both  French  and  British  Imperialism,  and 
of  Admiral  Mahan's  thesis  of  the  importance  of  sea  power 
in  history. 

Turning  to  the  practical  consequences  of  the  competition 
theory  of  national  relations,  I  do  not  lay  any  great  stress 
on  the  fact  that  the  German  plan  of  world  conquest  met 
military  defeat.  Even  a  military  victory,  which  at  times 
seemed  possible,  would  have  been  largely  illusory.  The 
extreme  Pan-Germans  were  ready  to  take  a  gambler's 
chance,  and  risk  the  ruin  of  the  Empire  for  the  old  dream 
of  world  dominion.  But  the  looting  of  commercial  cities 
is  no  longer  a  profitable  enterprise.  Modern  wealth  is 
not  portable  to  any  large  extent.  The  carrying  off  of 
Belgian  machinery  merely  impoverished  a  region  which 
it  was  planned  to  annex  to  Germany.  As  the  other  horn  of 
the  dilemma,  if  they  had  not  carried  it  off  they  would 
have  been  annexing  competitors  to  German  industry, 
within  her  tariff  wall. 

Veblen  has  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  preda- 
tory nations  of  history  were  essentially  parasitic.  Power- 
ful adventurers  fastened  themselves  on  a  superior  civiliza- 


NATIONAL  AGGEESSION  237 

tion,  and  used  its  resources  for  further  conquest.  When 
the  wealth  of  the  subject  civilization  was  sucked  out,  the 
empire  or  principality  collapsed.  The  slightest  reading 
of  history,  ancient  or  modern,  will  cause  one  to  question 
the  value  of  wars  of  aggression,  from  an  economic  stand- 
point. France  recovered  more  rapidly  than  Germany  after 
1870,  in  spite  of,  and  many  students  say  because  of,  the 
large  indemnity  she  was  forced  to  pay.  Five  years  after 
the  defeat  of  Eussia  by  Japan,  by  which  a  policy  of  mili- 
tary and  territorial  aggression  was  ended  for  the  former 
and  begun  for  the  latter,  the  Russian  budget  showed  a  sur- 
plus for  the  first  time  in  twenty  years,  while  the  Japanese 
were  paying  30  per  cent  of  their  net  income  in 
taxation.^ 

Nor  need  we  lay  emphasis  on  the  failure  of  the  German 
policy  of  ruthlessness.  Instead  of  terrorizing  the  European 
world  into  submission,  it  had  exactly  the  opposite  effect. 
It  gave  the  Allies  a  basis  on  which  to  appeal  to  moral 
indignation,  and  so  clothed  their  side  of  the  conflict  with 
an  ethical  and  religious  sanction.  The  reason  I  do  not 
use  ruthlessness  and  its  natural  reaction  as  an  argument 
at  this  point,  is  that  a  policy  of  national  preparedness  and 
aggression  may  be  carried  on  without  it.  The  competi- 
tion theory  may  be  played  in  sportsmanlike  fashion,  ac- 
cording to  the  recognized  rules  of  the  game. 

Nor  shall  I  enter  into  a  sentimental  discussion  of  the 
futility  of  war.  The  enormous  waste  of  treasure  and  life, 
the  dislocation  of  the  normal  activities  of  Society,  the 
physical  and  moral  deterioration  of  the  nations  taking  part 
in  it — all  these  have  weight.  They  appear  to  put  the 
burden  of  proof  on  those  who  claim  that  a  state  of  war 
is  normal  to  the  Universe,  and  a  reflection  of  its  charac- 
ter, or  rather  lack  of  character.  War  cannot,  any  more 
than  the  duel,  decide  the  ethics  of  a  quarrel.     The  most 

•Norman  Angell,  The  Great  Illusion,  4th  ed.,  1913,  85  //.  The 
Portsmouth  treaty,  however,  gave  Japan  a  definite  economic  ad- 
vantage in  the  form  of  fishing  rights  on  the  Bussian  coast. 


238  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

stand-pat  historian  would  hardly  claim  that  the  average 
war  in  history  has  been  won  by  the  side  which  was  in 
the  right.  The  attempt  of  each  nation  to  insure  itself 
against  war  by  being  better  prepared  for  war  than  any 
other  nation,  is  a  logical  absurdity.  But  still  the  competi- 
tion theory  holds  the  field.  One  of  the  outstanding  fea- 
tures of  the  World  War  was  the  futility  of  the  sentimental 
campaign  against  militarism.  It  was  defeated,  partly 
because  of  the  revival  of  nationalism  under  the  stress  of 
acute  situations  and  aroused  passions,  partly  because  of 
general  belief  in  the  competition  theory  as  a  practical 
doctrine.  As  long  as  national  governments,  and  the  public 
sentiment  that  lies  back  of  them,  believe  that  there  is  an 
advantage  in  military  strength,  just  so  long  will  the  theory 
survive.  The  popular  response  awakened  by  the  Disarma- 
ment Conference  suggests  that  public  opinion  is  changing 
front,  as  a  result  of  recent  experience.  If  war  ever  dis- 
appears, it  will  be  because  men  generally  have  discovered 
that  it  does  not  pay.  Which  brings  us  to  the  crux  of  our 
problem.  We  must  learn  whether  competition,  in  the 
military  sense,  is  profitable,  normal,  and  characteristic  of 
the  Universe. 

As  a  historical  generalization,  we  may  say  that  the  ad- 
vances in  civilization  and  general  well-being  have  been 
due  to  peace  rather  than  to  war.^  Modern  industry,  and 
the  commerce  through  which  it  finds  an  outlet,  has  been 
built  up  on  peaceful  intercourse  and  relative  freedom  of 
trade.  An  apparent  exception  is  found  in  the  stimulus 
which  war  gives  to  national  energy,  particularly  along 
the  lines  of  invention  and  production.  The  Allies  were 
able  to  carry  on  the  contest  for  over  four  years,  without 
any  apparent  diminution  of  wealth,  in  spite  of  the  number 
of  persons  withdrawn  entirely  from  production  or  diverted 
to  the  production  of  purely  military  material.  But  the 
increase  in  the  production  of  essentials,  by  which  these 
losses  were  made  good,  was  not  due  to  war,  except  in  an 
•  Cf.  ThorstdLn  Veblen,  Instinct  of  Workmanship,  1915. 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  239 

indirect  sense.  It  was  due  to  the  better  organization  of 
industry,  to  the  increased  output  induced  by  the  motive 
of  patriotism,  and  to  the  cutting  off  of  non-essential  pro- 
duction and  the  postponement  of  all  but  the  most  necessary- 
consumption.  There  is  no  reason  why  these  or  similar 
causes  should  not  become  generally  operative  in  time  of 
peace.  All  that  the  war  experience  teaches,  is  that  we 
have  a  large  productive  capacity  in  reserve.  How  to  tap 
this  reserve  is  the  principal  problem  of  Industry.'' 

When  we  examine  closely  the  case  of  pre-War  Germany, 
as  an  example  of  the  competition  theory  consistently  ap- 
plied, we  find  that  it  aroused  unfavorable  reactions  in 
other  nations,  imposed  a  heavy  financial  burden,  and  was 
heading  the  nation  toward  economic  disaster,  in  spite  of 
her  apparent  strength.  Let  me  take  up  these  points  in 
order. 

When  Germany,  after  the  war  of  18Y0,  took  Alsace-Lor- 
raine from  France,  she  gained  a  more  easily  defended 
frontier,  and  a  rich  territory,  much  richer  in  fact  than 
she  had  supposed,  when  improved  technical  methods  made 
it  possible  to  use  the  Lorraine  iron  ores  in  the  making  of 
steel.  The  price  she  paid  was  the  permanent  enmity  of 
France.  Not  only  was  the  thought  of  revenge,  the  idea  of 
recovering  the  lost  provinces,  a  constant  dream  of  the 
French  people.  But  suspicion  of  her  powerful  new  neigh- 
bor and  the  dread  of  fresh  aggression  led  France  to  build 
up  a  powerful  military  machine,  to  match  that  of  the  Ger- 
mans. As  further  means  of  protection,  France  laid  aside 
her  hereditary  hostility  toward  England,  and  made  with 
Russia  a  military  and  financial  alliance.  The  net  result 
was  the  competition  in  armaments,  which  laid  an  increas- 
ing burden  on  the  nations  of  Europe,  and  created  a  tense 
situation  where  a  false  step  would  make  peace  impos- 
sible. 

The  unfavorable  reaction  of  England  toward  Germany 
is  somewhat  more  complicated.    It  appears  to  have  begun 
» Cf.  David  Friday,  Profits,  Wages  and  Prices,  1920. 


240  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

with  Bismarck's  sudden  annexation  of  territory  in  South- 
west Africa,  in  1884.  Other  colonial  acquisitions  fol- 
lowed, and  it  was  clear  that  Germany  had  entered  the 
race  as  a  world  Power.  The  growth  of  German  trade 
aroused  considerable  jealousy  on  the  part  of  British  mer- 
chants, who  found  their  new  rivals  underselling  them  in 
their  natural  markets.  With  the  building  up  of  the  Ger- 
man navy  as  a  formidable  fighting  force,  the  British  peo- 
ple as  a  whole  became  fearful  and  suspicious.  A  com- 
petition in  battle  fleets  was  added  to  the  competition  in 
armies.  That  England  was  frequently  the  aggressor  in 
the  struggle  for  territory  and  trade,  is  undoubtedly  true; 
I  shall  give  some  examples  of  this  in  a  later  chapter.  But 
the  course  of  German  diplomacy  was  such  as  to  create 
the  feeling  that  Germany  was  a  dangerous  and  unscrupu- 
lous rival,  whose  continued  expansion  might  threaten  Eng- 
land's very  existence.  Englishmen  could  not  forget,  for 
instance,  Germany's  threatened  interference  during  the 
Boer  War,  when  the  British  Empire  was  passing  through  a 
serious  crisis. 

The  reaction  of  other  nations  was  more  than  the  fear  of 
military  aggression,  for  which  the  utterances  of  the  ex- 
treme Pan-Germans  gave  some  foundation.  Germany's 
methods  of  commercial  and  financial  penetration  aroused 
equal  resentment  and  fear.  Kecent  German  emigrants 
were  still  counted  as  German  citizens,  and  used  as  com- 
mercial and  political  propagandists,  even  if  they  had  be- 
come naturalized  abroad.  German-controlled  banks  ac- 
quired a  powerful  and  sometimes  a  dominant  influence  in 
other  countries.^  Long-term  credits,  running  often  to  a 
year  or  18  months,  captured  the  South  American  trade. 
Imitations  of  standard  foreign  goods  were  sold  at  a  lower 
price,  sometimes  through  a  third  country  to  conceal  their 
real  origin.  Industrial  and  commercial  espionage  was  re- 
duced to  a  fine  art.    By  selling  abroad  at  a  lower  price  than 

*See  G.  Preziosi'B  story  of  the  Trojaii  horse  in  La  Q^rmama 
alia  conquista  delV  Italia j  1915. 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  241 

at  home,  it  was  possible  to  destroy  competition,  and  secure 
a  monopoly  of  many  lines  of  business.  This  practice  is 
known  as  dumping.  Steel  girders,  for  instance,  which 
sold  for  130  marks  in  Germany,  were  sold  at  120  to  125 
marks  in  Switzerland,  and  103  to  110  marks  in  England. 
In  Italy,  in  an  attempt  to  throttle  the  new  iron  industry, 
they  were  sold  at  Y5  marks,  or  from  10  to  20  marks  below 
the  actual  cost  of  production,  until  a  working  agreement 
was  concluded  with  the  Italian  steel  trust,  in  the  Spring  of 
1913.®  Finally,  the  prestige  of  the  Empire  was  used  to 
advance  trade.  The  German  navy  was  a  powerful  business 
lever.  Prince  Henry  and  the  Kaiser  went  on  the  road  in 
person.  Loans  were  made  to  backward  nations  in  return 
for  concessions  and  orders  for  goods. 

As  to  the  climax,  one  of  the  best  statements  I  have 
found  is  that  of  Count  Czemin,  the  Austro-Hungarian 
statesman.  "The  war  would  never  have  broken  out  had  it 
not  been  that  the  growing  suspicion  of  the  Entente  as  to 
Germany's  plans  had  already  brought  the  situation  to  the 
boiling-point.  The  spirit  and  demeanor  of  Germany,  the 
speeches  of  the  Emperor  William,  the  behavior  of  Prus- 
sians throughout  the  world — whether  in  the  case  of  a  gen- 
eral at  Potsdam  or  a  commis  voyageur  out  in  East  Africa 
— these  Prussian  manners  inflicting  themselves  upon  the 
world,  the  ceaseless  boasting  of  their  own  power  and  the 
clattering  of  swords,  roused  throughout  the  whole  world  a 
feeling  of  antipathy  and  alarm,  and  effected  that  moral 
coalition  against  Germany  which  in  this  war  has  found 
such  terrible  practical  expression.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
am  fairly  convinced  that  German,  or  rather  Prussian, 
tendencies  have  been  misunderstood  by  the  world,  and  that 
the  leading  German  statesmen  never  had  any  intention  of 
acquiring  world-dominion.  They  wished  to  retain  Ger- 
many's place  in  the  sun,  her  rank  among  the  first  Powers 

•Preziosi,  op  oit.,  61;  Henri  Hauser,  Univ.  of  Dijon,  Les  methodesi 
allemandes  d'expansion  economique,  3me  ed.,  1916,  Eng.  Trans.  (Ger- 
many's Commercial  Grip  on  the  World,  1917),   108. 


242  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

of  the  world;  it  was  undoubtedly  her  right,  but  the  real 
and  alleged  continuous  German  provocation  and  the  ever- 
growing fears  of  the  Entente  in  consequence  created  just 
that  fatal  competition  in  armaments  and  that  coalition  pol- 
icy which  burst  like  a  terrible  thunderstorm  into  war."  ^® 
Some  points  in  this  statement  may  be  open  to  question. 
But  it  undoubtedly  expresses  the  form  of  reaction  which 
German  Realpolitih,  German  arrogance  and  German  com- 
mercial methods  had  brought  out  in  the  rest  of  the  world. 
Let  us  turn  to  the  cost  of  national  competition.  In 
1913,  the  last  year  of  the  pre-War  period,  the  German  peo- 
ple spent  $342,304,875  for  their  army,  $120,063,475  for 
their  navy,  $35,635,525  for  military  pensions,  and  $60,- 
693,500  interest  on  the  national  debt,  for  which  prepared- 
ness was  chiefly  responsible.^^  The  direct  cost  of  the  mili- 
tary competition  theory  may  therefore  be  estimated  at 
$558,967,375  annually.  This  was  $8.28  for  each  man, 
woman  and  child,  or  $41.40  for  a  family  of  ^yb.  As  the 
Imperial  funds  were  raised  through  customs,  excise, 
profits  on  State  railways,  etc.,  the  burden  was  probably 
distributed  somewhat  widely  among  the  population.  In 
addition  to  this,  military  service  took  880,003  men  out  of 
the  ranks  of  productive  labor.  This  loss  was  not  counter- 
balanced, as  in  the  War  period,  by  a  patriotic  stimulus  to 
production.  Estimating  the  number  of  households  at 
14,920,559,  every  16  households  were  obliged  to  make  up 
the  production  of  a  household  from  which  a  soldier  or 
sailor  had  been  taken,  or  an  additional  burden  of  $31.25 
on  incomes  of  $500  a  year.  When  local  taxes  are  added, 
the  government  was  probably  absorbing  over  a  fifth  of  the 
productive  power  of  the  average  working  class  family. 
The  cost  of  preparedness  was  constantly  on  the  increase. 

"Ottokar  Czernin,  In  the  World  War,  1920,  3. 

"I  have  gleaned  these  figures  from  the  8tatistisches  Jahrhudh  f. 
d.  Deutsche  Reich,  1914.  The  mark  is  reckoned  for  convenience 
and  old  times*  sake  at  $  .25.  Population  figures  have  been  increased 
by  4%  to  allow  for  3  years'  growth  since  the  census  of  December, 
1910. 


IsTATIONAL  AGGRESSION  243 

France  and  Britain  carried  a  very  much  larger  per  capita 
charge  than  Germany. 

Even  the  figures  which  I  have  given  seem  small  by  com- 
parison with  the  post-War  period.  As  preparedness  was 
expected  by  the  Germans  to  lead  to  war,  sooner  or  later, 
it  would  be  fair  to  enter  the  War  as  a  charge  against 
the  competition  theory.  Recent  experience  has  shown  that 
the  cost  of  modem  wars  must  be  borne  by  the  partici- 
pants, and  cannot  be  shifted  from  the  victor  to  the  van- 
quished. The  Allies,  for  economic  reasons,  have  been  un- 
able to  assess  Germany  even  the  full  amount  of  damage 
done  by  her  to  their  own  territory.  Outside  the  reparation 
debt,  the  direct  cost  of  the  War  to  Germany  is  estimated  by 
Bogart  at  $37,775,000,000,  or  $559  for  each  unit  of  popu- 
lation, using  the  pre-War  figures,  with  an  indirect  cost  of 
about  20  billion  more.^^  He  gives  the  following  totals  for 
all  countries  participating  in  the  most  expensive  debauch 
known  to  history. 

Total  direct  costs,  net ■,,-. $186,333,637,097 

Indirect  costs: 

Capitalized  value  of  human  life: 

Soldiers   $33,551,276,280 

Civilians 33,551,276,280 

Property  losses: 

On  land   29,960,000,000 

Shipping  and  cargo. .       6,800,000,000 
Loss  of  production  . . .     45,000,000,000 

War  relief 1,000,000,000 

Loss  to  neutrals   1,750,000,000 

Total  indirect  costs  $151,612,542,560     151,612,542,560 

Grand  total $337,946,179,657 

It  remains  to  consider  the  economic  position  of  Ger- 
many at  the  outbreak  of  the  War.    In  spite  of  the  heavy 

"  Ernest  L.  Bogart,  Direct  and  Indirect  Coats  of  the  Great  World 
Waa*,  1919. 


244  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

military  burden  piled  upon  her  people,  and  her  somewhat 
limited  natural  resources,  the  Empire  had  been  able  to 
forge  her  way  to  the  front  rank  as  a  commercial  nation. 
In  1913,  her  regular  exports  totalled  $2,722,800,000, 
second  only  to  those  of  Britain.  In  iron  and  steel,  as  in 
many  special  lines  of  manufacture,  she  had  already  passed 
England.  The  causes  lying  back  of  this  remarkable 
achievement  have  been  given  by  many  writers,  and  need 
not  be  repeated  here.-^^  Most  of  them  are  entirely  credit- 
able, and  would  have  brought  success  to  any  nation  under 
any  system.  The  question  which  puzzled  the  world  in 
1914  was  this.  Why,  with  such  a  growing  command  of 
world  markets,  and  so  many  foreign  business  interests  at 
stake,  did  leading  German  business  men  not  only  acquiesce 
in  but  apparently  encourage  the  War? 

It  may  be  many  years  before  we  obtain  a  complete  an- 
swer to  this  question.  But  it  is  the  opinion  of  a  number 
of  careful  students  that  the  German  leaders  were  con- 
scious of  a  weakness  in  their  apparently  strong  economio 
position,  which  could  be  covered  or  counterbalanced  only 
by  a  victorious  war. 

As  already  stated,  the  general  policy  followed  by  the 
German  Empire  had  been  that  of  economic  nationalism. 
Industrial  development  was  largely  directed  by  the  gov- 
ernment, along  lines  that  would  make  the  nation  a  power- 
ful military  machine.  The  railway  system  was  laid  out  on 
strategic  lines,  often  with  no  expectation  of  their  cost 
being  paid  by  peaceful  traffic.  Merchant  shipping  was  sub- 
sidized, and  adapted  to  the  use  of  the  navy.  "Tariff  legis- 
lation has  been  devised  to  so  distribute  and  specialize  the 
industry  of  the  country  as  to  make  it  a  self-contained  pro- 
ductive organization,  in  so  far  as  concerns  the  military  and 

"^See,  for  example,  Earl  D.  Howard,  Cause  and  Extent  of  the 
Recent  Indust.  Prog,  of  Germany,  1907;  Arthur  Shadwell,  Industrial 
Efficiency,  2nd  ed.,  1909;  Paul  P.  Gourvitch,  How  Germany  Does 
Business,  1917;  Wm.  H.  Dawson,  Evol,  of  Modem  Germany,  3rd  ed., 
1911. 


l^ATIONAL  AGGRESSION  245 

other  needs  of  the  community  in  times  of  war."  ^*  Since 
the  support  of  the  "Junker"  land-holders  was  necessary  to 
the  government,  this  class  was  favored  by  export  rebates 
on  agricultural  produce. 

With  the  growth  of  industry  under  a  protectionist  sys- 
tem, came  a  great  increase  of  wealth  and  power  in  the 
commercial  classes.  It  is  now  fairly  clear,  I  think,  that 
the  pre- War  policies  of  the  German  government  were  dic- 
tated not  only  by  the  military  but  by  the  commercial  group. 
In  fact,  the  two  had  become  closely  allied,  as  Millioud 
points  out.-^^  The  military  power  of  Germany  was  being 
used,  not  so  much  for  its  own  sake,  as  for  forcing  trade 
openings  and  treaty  concessions.  The  government,  through 
its  control  of  the  railway  system,  its  granting  of  differen- 
tial rates  and  export  rebates,  and  its  diversion  to  German 
steamship  lines  of  the  emigration  from  Eastern  Europe, 
took  a  leading  part  in  the  promotion  of  over-seas  trade.^* 
The  investigation  of  the  syndicates  (Cartels)  in  1903, 
only  led  to  the  encouragement  of  dumping  as  a  settled  pol- 
icy of  the  Empire,  whatever  it  might  cost  the  home  con- 
sumer. The  conquest  of  the  world  through  trade  was 
planned  with  the  same  care  as  the  perfecting  of  the  mili- 
tary machine. 

Germany's  commercial  position  in  1914,  however, 
showed  weakness  in  three  directions.  In  the  first  place, 
the  extremely  favorable  trade  treaties  with  Eussia  and 
other  countries,  negotiated  by  von  Biilow,  would  expire  in 
1917.  Unless  some  radical  improvement  appeared  in  her 
political  position,  she  could  not  expect  to  extort  equally 
favorable  concessions. 

In  the  second  place,  the  protectionist  policy,  which  made 

"Thorstein  Veblen,  Imperial  Germany  and  the  Industrial  Revolu^ 
tion,  1915,  207. 

"Prof.  M.  Millioud,  Lausanne,  La  caste  dominante  allemande, 
1916.  The  Eng.  trans,  bears  the  title,  The  Ruling  Caste  and  Fren- 
zied Finance  in  Germany. 

"Hauser,  op,  cit.,  138,  and  chap's  2-4. 


246  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

it  possible  to  dump  manufactures  on  foreign  countries,  and 
drive  competitors  from  the  field,  was  beginning  to  react  on 
the  home  country.  Prices  and  living  costs  in  Germany 
were  constantly  rising,  and  much  more  rapidly  than  in 
France  or  Britain.  ^^  This  led  to  increasing  discontent 
among  the  working  classes.  Wages  were  increasing,  and 
capital  becoming  dearer,  which  meant  a  higher  cost  of 
production.  To  sell  wrought  goods  abroad,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  buy  other  wrought  goods  or  raw  materials,  includ- 
ing food.  This  balance  of  trade  was  increasingly  difficult 
to  maintain.  In  the  ^ve  years  from  1909  to  1913,  while 
regular  exports  increased  $875,575,000,  corresponding 
imports  increased  pnly  $560,850,000.  For  the  latter 
year,  the  increases  were  respectively  $284,925,000  and 
$19,425,000,  and  the  balance  of  imports  over  visible  ex- 
ports only  $168,450,000,  as  contrasted  with  $483,175,000 
in  1909.  At  the  same  time,  other  countries,  with  their 
developing  industries,  were  becoming  serious  competitors 
in  the  foreign  market.  The  United  States  had  begun  to 
export  manufactured  goods,  instead  of  buying  them  abroad 
in  return  for  foodstuffs.  England  and  France  were  tak- 
ing leaves  out  of  Germany's  book.  E^ot  only  were  they 
copying  her  efficiency  methods  in  their  industries,  but 
they  had  learned  to  make  loans  to  other  countries  con- 
ditional on  trade  orders.  Canada  had  already  adopted  an 
anti-dumping  tariff,  and  other  nations  were  likely  to  follow 
suit.  Veblen  points  out  that  in  a  relative  sense  Germany 
was  actually  losing  instead  of  gaining,  the  turning  point  in 
German  industry  and  commerce  coming  about  1909.^^ 

The  third  weakness  was  inflation.  The  German  banking 
system  had  become  highly  centralized,  with  the  government 
Reichsbanh  as  a  direct  partner,  and  was  run  on  less  con- 

"  Millioud,  op.  cit,  Eng.  trans.,  134  //. 

"  Op.  cit.,  253,  174  ff.  His  opinion  is  that,  under  a  free  trade 
system,  the  net  gain  in  industrial  efficiency  and  volume  of  output 
would  have  been  appreciably  greater,  and  that  the  distribution  of 
this  gain  among  the  population  would  have  been  somewhat  more 
equable. 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  247 

servative  lines  than  in  other  European  countries.  Not 
only  did  the  banker  lend  money  for  commercial  ventures. 
He  took  an  active  part  in  their  direction,  and  in  the  or- 
ganization of  the  Cartels,  or  trade  agreements,  which  now 
controlled  most  lines  of  industry.  The  rapid  commercial 
expansion  made  necessary  an  enormous  increase  of  capital. 
Domestic  and  foreign  sources  of  supply  were  used  to  the 
utmost.  Much  of  the  capital  for  German  industry  had 
been  drawn  from  investors  in  France  and  England,  who 
were  increasingly  unwilling  to  lend  it.^^  Credit  had  been 
dangerously  expanded,  and  was  not  elastic.  Whether  the 
banks  had  already  begun  the  practice,  so  flagrant  in  Ger- 
many during  the  War,  of  lending  to  themselves  and  sub- 
stituting paper  for  accumulated  funds,  probably  will  never 
be  known.^^  In  any  case,  their  resources  were  largely 
tied  up  in  commercial  companies,  which  deliberately  prac- 
ticed overproduction.  The  investing  public  was  baited  by 
big  dividends,  and  many  people  in  Germany  were  growing 
rich  in  the  process.  But  the  gamble  depended  on  the  abil- 
ity of  the  Cartels  to  continue  indefinitely  the  marketing 
of  their  surplus  in  foreign  countries.  As  long  as  there 
was  a  chance  to  secure  exclusive  trade  and  large  profits  in 
the  near  future,  it  might  be  policy  to  finance  exports  for 
a  small  return  or  an  actual  loss.  If  the  expansion  of  for- 
eign trade  was  checked,  as  we  have  seen  indications  that 
it  would  be,  the  securities  of  the  industrial  companies  were 
worthless,  and  business  Germany  faced  a  collapse,  com- 
pared with  which  the  dislocations  of  a  short  war  might 
seem  a  favorable  risk. 

If  this  analysis  is  substantially  correct,  Germany  em- 
barked on  war  because  she  had  failed  in  peace.  World  con- 
quest was  attempted,  not  merely  as  the  policy  skilfully 

"The  withdrawal  of  French  capital,  in  the  Moroccan  dispute  of 
1911,  threatened  a  financial  crisis,  and  made  it  necessary  for  Ger- 
many to  modify  her  demands. 

*Some  evidence  for  this  will  be  found  in  Millioud,  op.  cit.  A 
brief  account  of  German  war  finance  is  given  by  Bogart,  Direct  and 
Indirect  Co»t8  of  the  Great  World  War,  1919.  See  also  J.  L. 
Laughlin,  Credit  of  the  Nations,  1918. 


248  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

propagated  by  militarists  and  Pan-Germans,  but  as  the 
desperate  attempt  of  the  commercial  group  to  stave  off  a 
crisis.  Whether  the  crisis  impending  was  a  collapse  of 
financial  inflation,  or  the  slow  but  sure  restriction  of  ex- 
port trade,  is  immaterial  to  our  argument.  Germany  was 
approaching  the  point  where  further  industrial  advance 
was  impossible.  In  the  peaceful  conquest  of  world  markets, 
Imperialism  was  nearing  the  end  of  its  rope.^^ 

The  German  laid  the  blame  for  this  situation  on  his 
competitors.  It  would  be  more  true  to  charge  it  to  the  un- 
favorable reaction  of  other  nations  to  German  policy.  The 
general  industrial  development  which  was  taking  place  in 
the  world,  proved  a  handicap  to  Germany,  where  it  might 
have  been  a  benefit  She  was  inclined  to  look  on  world 
trade  as  if  it  were  a  bone,  which  could  be  possessed  by 
only  one  snarling  dog.  Germany's  failure,  even  before 
the  War,  was  the  failure  of  a  selfish  economic  nationalism, 
as  contrasted  with  economic  internationalism,  which  seeks 
to  gain  advantage  through  mutual  service  in  trade,  and  the 
dependence  of  trading  countries  on  each  other.  ^^ 

I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  develop  the  obvious 
witness  of  the  War  to  the  moral  standards  which  lie  at 
the  basis  of  present-day  national  relations,  and  the  dis- 
advantage which  Germany  suffered  through  their  viola- 
tion.   No  nation  can  break  treaties  with  impunity.    Bru- 

*For  several  years  before  the  War,  the  internal  situation  had 
been  increasingly  serious.  See  Georges  Blondel,  a  recognized  author- 
ity on  Germany,  Les  embarras  de  VAllemagne,  2nie  ed.,  1912.  The 
industrial  depression  in  Germany,  which  followed  the  Moroccan 
crisis  and  the  Balkan  War,  is  described  from  week  to  week  by  the 
Berlin  correspondent  of  the  London  Economist.  See  also  article 
in  Revue  de  Paris,  Jan.  15,  1915,  by  Charles  Bonnefon,  for  20  years 
Berlin  correspondent  of  the  Figaro.  Reports  of  the  great  trades 
unions  showed  4.7%  of  unemployment  at  the  end  of  November, 
1913,  a  larger  figure  than  in  the  crisis  of  1908.  Each  year  showed 
a  large  increase  in  the  number  of  strikes.  The  Reichstag  was  get- 
ting out  of  hand,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  the  government  could 
continue  either  military  expansion,  or  the  extreme  protectionist 
policy  on  which  both  the  Cartels  and  the  great  estates  depended. 

*  Cf.  Elisha  M.  Friedman,  Intemat.  Commerce  and  Reconstruction, 
1920.  This  phase  of  the  subject  will  be  discussed  further  in  chap. 
24. 


NATIONAL  AGGRESSION  249 

tality  and  wanton  destruction  react  on  the  perpetrator. 
We  have  reached  a  point  in  history  where  moral  laws  must 
be  accepted  as  the  normal  paths,  the  social  geodesies,  of 
the  Universe. 

We  have  still  to  consider  the  question  of  colonies,  spheres 
of  influence,  and  related  aspects  of  the  struggle  for  world 
trade.  To  this  the  next  chapter  is  devoted.  Thus  far  in 
our  argument  the  competition  theory  of  national  relations 
has  not  made  good.  It  is  based  on  false  biology,  outgrown 
theories  of  government,  and  questionable  historical  induc- 
tion. In  practice  it  brings  heavy  burdens  and  imf  avorable 
reactions,  without  any  compensating  advantages,  other 
than  those  due  to  natural  resources,  technical  knowledge, 
hard  work,  frugality  and  enterprise. 


XXI. 

COLONIES  AND  TRADE. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  19  th  century,  as  the  indus- 
trial nations  began  to  reach  out  for  new  markets,  inter- 
national competition  entered  a  new  phase.  Certain  Euro- 
pean countries,  attributing  England's  commercial  pros- 
perity to  the  wide  extent  of  her  empire,  attempted  a  similar 
expansion.  The  temperate  regions  of  the  earth  were  al- 
ready preempted.  But  large  portions  of  the  tropics  re- 
mained, rich  in  food  supplies  and  other  raw  materials, 
and  offering  great  possibilities  for  commercial  develop- 
ment. There  ensued  a  scramble,  in  which  England  joined, 
to  secure  valuable  colonies  and  spheres  of  influence  before 
it  was  too  late.  The  atlases  of  the  last  40  years  tell  the 
story. 

Underlying  this  movement  there  were  three  principal 
motives.  The  first  was  national  pride.  Back  of  the  diplo- 
matic intrigues  of  these  40  years,  as  Lippmann  points  out, 
has  been  the  popular  feeling  that  the  prestige  of  their  coun- 
try is  the  personal  concern  of  its  citizens.  "There  is  small 
doubt  that  the  masses  of  people  in  no  country  would  risk 
war  to  secure  mining  concessions  in  Africa.  But  the  choice 
is  never  presented  to  them  in  that  way.  Each  contest  for 
economic  privileges  appears  to  the  public  as  a  kind  of 
sporting  event  with  loaded  weapons.  The  people  wish 
their  team,  that  is,  their  country,  to  win.  Just  as  strong 
men  will  weep  because  the  second  baseman  fumbles  at  the 
critical  moment,  so  they  will  go  into  tantrums  of  rage  be- 
cause corporations  of  their  own  nationality  are  thwarted 
in  a  commercial  ambition."  ^     Strong  as  is  this  psycho- 

*  Walter  Lippmann,  The  Stakes  of  Diplomacy,  2nd  ed.,  1917,  77. 

250 


COLONIES  AND  TEADE  251 

logical  motive  for  expansion,  however  much  it  throws  light 
on  human  character  and  history,  it  really  tells  us  nothing 
as  to  man's  relation  to  his  Divine  Environment.  Our  prob- 
lem is  to  determine  whether  the  Universe  is  so  constituted 
that  competition  or  common  interest  brings  the  greater 
benefit.  The  mere  acquisition  and  holding  of  territory, 
for  the  sake  of  territory,  is  of  no  advantage.  It  may  prove 
a  serious  disadvantage.  Megalomania  has  proved  the  un- 
doing of  more  than  one  country. 

Again,  the  nation  has  felt  the  need  of  an  outlet  for  its 
surplus  population.  Such  a  need  may  be  genuine,  and  its 
satisfaction  a  real  advantage.  But  the  hope  to  duplicate 
in  the  tropics  the  success  of  English-speaking  colonies  in 
the  temperate  regions,  is  essentially  unsound.  If  there  has 
been  any  surplus  population  in  Europe,  it  has  not  emi- 
grated to  the  tropics.  Sir  Harry  Johnston  believes  that 
the  control  of  tropical  diseases  will  make  it  possible  for 
white  settlers  to  live  a  normal  life  in  those  regions.  But 
no  discoveries  of  Science  can  neutralize  the  effects  of  cli- 
mate. The  Japanese  appear  to  be  subject  to  the  same  cli- 
matic limitations.  Not  so  the  Chinese,  but  China  has  not 
yet  entered  on  an  era  of  competitive  colonization. 

We  may  confine  ourselves  to  the  economic  motive. ,  Fun- 
damentally it  is  for  material  gain  that  expansion  is  prac- 
ticed and  wars  are  threatened.  The  chief  problem  of  mod- 
em diplomacy  is  the  weak  and  backward  State.  Persia  or 
Mexico  or  Morocco  is  like  the  quack-grass  farm  of  a  shift- 
less renter  in  a  rich  agricultural  country.  We  see  the 
same  potential  resources,  the  same  lack  of  capital  and  ef- 
ficient management.  The  rest  of  the  world  needs  to  have 
the  land  developed  and  the  weeds  kept  down.  It  is  in- 
clined to  be  impatient  with  pleas  of  independence  and  ter- 
ritorial integrity  which  hold  back  economic  progress.  "The 
pressure  to  organize  the  globe  is  enormous."  ^ 

I  can  think  of  four  possible  ways  in  which  the  occupa- 
tion of  territory,  not  properly  adapted  to  white  settlement, 

'  Lippmann,  op.  cit.,  87,  98. 


352  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

might  be  of  advantage  to  the  people  of  the  occupying  conn- 
try:  through  quick  exploitation;  franchises  and  public 
works ;  the  developing  of  local  resources ;  and  the  building 
up  of  trade.  ^ 

The  original  type  of  colonial  policy  is  that  of  quick 
exploitation.  The  land  and  its  resources  are  appropriated 
by  the  government,  or  by  individuals  or  chartered  com- 
panies, whose  objective  is  a  large  and  immediate  return, 
l^atives  are  compelled  to  work  in  the  mines,  or  to  gather 
rubber,  ivory,  or  other  ready  commodities.  The  most 
familiar  historic  example  is  the  Spanish  occupation  of 
Mexico  and  Peru.  In  modern  times,  we  have  Belgian  ex- 
ploitation of  the  Congo.  Each  village  was  assessed  so 
much  rubber  per  fortnight.  If  a  proper  return  was  not 
made,  any  member  of  the  village  was  likely  to  be  flogged, 
maimed  or  shot  by  a  special  police  force  made  up  of  former 
slave  raiders  and  cannibals.  Such  a  policy  must  be  re- 
garded as  a  failure  from  every  standpoint.  It  brutalizes 
those  taking  part  in  it.  The  wealth  gained  is  of  advantage 
only  to  a  few  individuals.  The  material  resources  of  the 
colony  are  exhausted  rather  than  developed.  And  forced 
labor,  under  such  conditions,  inevitably  destroys  the  native 
population,  whose  labor  and  economic  wants  might  be  made 
the  basis  for  legitimate  trade. 

The  holding  of  a  colony  gives  an  opening  for  special  in- 
terests within  the  colonizing  nation.  A  group  of  business 
men  who  have  influence  with  the  colonial  office,  are  likely 
to  reap  a  rich  harvest.  Tariffs  and  taxes  give  a  chance  for 
favoritism.  There  are  railroads  and  harbors  to  be  built. 
Mineral  and  oil  lands  are  subject  to  lease.*  Just  who  is  to 
benefit  from  the  fact  that  the  colonial  administration  with 
its  rare  prizes  is  in  the  hands  of  one's  fellow  countrymen  ? 
Contracts  and  concessions  give  an  opportunity  for  profit- 

•See  Paul  S.  Reinsch,  Colonial  Government^  1902;  Colonial  Ad- 
ministration, 1905 ;  Alleyne  Ireland,  The  Fa/r  Eastern  Tropics,  1905 ; 
Benjamin  Kidd,  Control  of  the  Tropics,  1898;  Albert  G.  Keller, 
Colonization,  1908. 

^Lippmann,  op.  cit.,  96. 


COLONIES  AND  TEADE  253 

able  investment.  The  making  of  goods  called  for  by  such 
contracts  may  act  as  a  stimulus  to  home  industry.  How 
far  the  people  as  a  whole  are  benefited  will  depend  on  what 
the  colony  costs  the  home  government.  In  many  cases,  as 
we  shall  see,  colonization  has  proved  an  expensive  luxury. 

We  pass  to  the  developing  of  local  resources  in  the 
colony  or  sphere  of  influence.  In  the  majority  of  coloniz- 
ing countries,  the  prevailing  idea  of  colonial  management 
may  be  termed  permanent  exploitation.  The  acquired 
territory,  or  valuable  portions  of  it,  is  looked  on  as  an 
estate,  to  be  worked  in  the  interest  of  its  European  owners. 
Plantations  are  laid  out  for  the  growing  of  tropical  prod- 
ucts. The  marketing  of  these  products  proves  a  source  of 
wealth  to  the  home  government,  or  to  groups  of  citizens 
in  the  exploiting  nation.  With  this  we  may  class  the  mod- 
ern development  of  mines  and  smelters,  oil  wells  and  re- 
fineries, and  other  industrial  enterprises.  Indirectly  the 
entire  world  may  benefit,  through  the  increased  production 
of  needed  goods.  The  direct  benefit  is  solely  in  the  form 
of  a  return  on  invested  capital.  Whether  the  colony  will 
be  an  asset  or  a  liability  to  the  nation  as  a  whole,  depends 
largely  on  the  reaction  of  the  native  population. 

Successful  colonial  administration  is  an  art,  and  by  no 
means  a  simple  one.  It  requires  experience,  sympathetic 
understanding,  and  the  highest  moral  character.  As  an 
English  writer  has  said:  "The  running  of  a  tropical 
colony  is  of  all  tests  the  most  searching  as  to  the  develop- 
ment of  a  nation  that  attempts  it;  to  see  helpless  people 
and  not  oppress  them,  to  see  great  wealth  and  not  con- 
fiscate it,  to  have  absolute  power  and  not  abuse  it,  to  raise 
the  natives  and  not  sink  yourself — these  are  the  supreme 
tests  of  a  nation's  spirit."  ^ 

One  of  the  commonest  and  most  expensive  dangers  is  a 
radical  interference  with  native  traditions  and  customs. 
All  colonial  governments  have  been  guilty  of  this,  though 

'Quoted  by  Maurice  S.  Evans,  Black  and  White  in  the  Southern 
States,  1915,  279. 


254  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

many  of  them  have  gained  wisdom  throngh  sad  experience. 
Even  highly  developed  civilizations  have  been  scrapped,  in 
the  interest  of  European  culture.  The  attempt  is  made  to 
introduce  the  institutions  and  laws,  and  sometimes  even  the 
language,  of  the  home  country.  Inherited  ideas  and  ways 
of  thought  and  action  are  disregarded.  The  tribal  organi- 
zation is  broken  up,  communal  land  ownership  abolished, 
and  the  native  treated  as  a  legal  individual,  rather  than 
as  a  member  of  a  family  or  village  group.  Assimilation 
may  be  undertaken  with  the  best  intentions.  But  the  net 
result  is  likely  to  be  social  chaos.  The  native  prefers  the 
old  ways  of  doing  things,  and  does  not  imderstand  the  new. 
He  loses  his  traditional  loyalties  and  his  morale.  The  few 
who  acquire  a  European  education,  do  so  with  a  view  to 
obtaining  office  under  the  government,  or  become  plotters 
against  it.  Given  freedom  of  contract  and  individual  land 
tenure,  the  peasant  falls  a  victim  to  the  money  lender,  and 
is  ousted  from  his  ancestral  holdings.  Whatever  the  mate- 
rial benefits  conferred  by  European  civilization,  the  native 
population  come  to  look  on  their  conquerors  as  their  arch 
enemies. 

In  the  exploitation  of  tropical  territory,  the  chief  prob- 
lem is  that  of  labor.  The  systein  was  most  profitable  under 
N"egro  slavery.  With  the  general  abolition  of  slavery, 
many  plantations  were  abandoned,  as  in  the  British  West 
Indies.  The  necessary  labor  must  now  be  secured  by  pay- 
ing wages  to  freed  slaves  or  to  the  natives.  And  that  brings 
us  to  the  psychological  attitude  of  the  tropical  !N'egro 
toward  wage  labor. 

A  careful  study  of  this  question  was  made  by  Sir  Sidney 
Olivier,  whose  long  administrative  service  in  the  West 
Indies  gives  special  weight  to  his  conclusions.  The  ITegro 
in  the  tropics,  as  he  says,  is  not  trained  or  disposed  to  the 
production  of  surplus  value.  With  a  generous  soil  and  cli- 
mate, he  does  not  need  to  work  hard  in  order  to  earn  what 
will  satisfy  his  few  and  simple  needs.  To  double  his 
wages,  instead  of  stimulating  him  to  work  twice  as  many 


COLONIES  AND  TEADE  255 

days,  makes  it  possible  for  him  to  work 'half  the  number 
of  days.  His  sense  of  personal  freedom  and  dignity,  by 
contrast  with  a  former  slavery,  gives  him  joy  in  being  his 
own  master  and  working  only  when  he  pleases.  In  short, 
he  has  no  mechanical  habit  of  industry,  no  conception  of 
any  essential  dignity  in  labor  itself,  no  delight  in  gratui- 
tous toil.  He 'lives  in  a  climate  where  toil  is  exhausting, 
and  rest  both  easy  and  sweet  "These  are  his  deficiencies, 
judged  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  European  who  wants 
to  make  use  of  .his  labour.  From  a  different  point  of  view, 
the  viciousness  of  his  habits  is  not  so  conspicuous.  The 
African  is  for  the  most  part  an  unskilled  labourer,  but  he 
is  strong,  and  when  he  is  pleased  to  work  he  is  highly 
efficient  within  the  limits  of  his  skill.  He  works  best  in 
gangs  under  social  impulse,  he  works  with  extreme  in- 
dustry on  his  own  small  holding,  up  to  the  limit  of  his 
limited  wants.  There  are  no  bounds  to  the  trouble  he  will 
take  in  service  in  which  *his  goodwill  or  affection  is  en- 
gaged. The  capitalist  system  of  industry  has  not  dis- 
ciplined him  into  a  wage-slave,  and  I  doubt  if  it  ever 
will."  « 

The  needs  of  white  capital  have  generally  been  met  in 
one  of  two  ways.  The  first  is  that  of  indentured  labor. 
Laborers  are  brought  in  under  contract,  to  work  for  a  fixed 
term.  Unless  properly  supervised,  the  system  is  capable 
of  great  abuses.  We  see  it  at  its  worst  in  the  Portuguese 
island  of  St  Thomas,  where  workers  were  secured  from 
native  chiefs  in  the  neighboring  colony  of  Angola,  to  work 
the  cocoa  plantations.     The  result  was  a  semi-slavery, 

'White  Capital  and  Coloured  Lahour,  1906,  83.  W.  P.  Living- 
stone, Black  Jamaica,  1899,  calls  attention  to  the  efficiency  of 
Jamaican  Negro  laborers,  when  well  handled,  as  in  the  building 
of  the  Panama  canal,  and  in  public  works  on  the  island.  To  quote 
another  authority,  the  South  African  Native  AflFairs  Commission: 
"Except  in  the  case  of  farm  labour  and  the  like,  which  is  especially 
suited  to  the  Native,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  what  is  known 
as  paid  labour  generally,  means  to  the  Native,  as  a  rule,  absence 
from  home  and  family,  and  in  some  employments  irksome  and 
often  hard  and  dangerous  work,  and  the  abandonment  of  the  ease, 
comforts  and  pleasures  of  Native  village  life."    Report,  1905,  376. 


256  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

which  aroused  the  indignation  of  the  civilized  world  and 
led  to  a  boycott  of  cocoa  grown  in  St.  Thomas.  The  best 
results  have  been  secured  on  sugar  plantations  in  the  West 
Indies.  Indentured  laborers  from  overcrowded  countries 
like  India  or  China  have  made  it  possible  to  cultivate 
sugar,  and  according  to  Olivier  have  actually  benefited  the 
Negroes,  by  providing  the  casual  labor  they  desire  and  rais- 
ing the  wage  scale.  But  the  introduction  of  Asiatics  tends 
to  crowd  out  the  white  artisan,  as  in  the  island  of  Mau- 
ritius, and  the  native  worker  as  in  Hawaii.  South  Africa 
found  it  necessary  to  pass  a  rigid  exclusion  law,  to  pre- 
vent its  territory  from  becoming  predominantly  Asiatic. 
For  the  Oriental,  as  Stoddard  says,  can  not  only  outwork 
the  Negro,  but  he  can  underlive  the  White. 

The  second  method  is  to  compel  the  native  to  work.  The 
attempt  is  often  disguised  as  a  desire  to  educate  and  civil- 
ize the  native  by  teaching  him  to  want  and  so  to  labor, 
"a  theory  that  coincides  most  providentially  with  the  pur- 
poses for  which  the  white  man  is  there,  viz.,  to  get  things 
dug  up  which  the  native  does  not  want  to  dig  for."  "^  The 
method  may  be  indirect.  Native  areas  are  restricted,  with 
the  requirement  of  individual  rather  than  communal  own- 
ership. A  heavy  head  tax  or  hut  tax  is  imposed.  Or  the 
land  is  monopolized,  and  the  native  compelled  to  pay  ex- 
cessive rent.  Not  only  is  a  large  revenue  secured  in  this 
way,  but  the  native  must  submit  to  a  certain  amount  of 
wage  labor  in  order  to  pay  his  taxes  .and  make  a  living. 
Sometimes  the  method  is  direct.  The  refusal  to  work  for 
wages  is  made  a  civil  offense,  leading  to  fine  and  imprison- 
ment. 

From  an  economic  standpoint,  forced  labor  is  inefficient 
and  expensive.  And  the  effect  of  all  such  measures  is  to 
generate  a  thinly  disguised  feeling  of  resentment  and  hos- 
tility. An  example  of  this  will  be  given  in  the  next  chapter. 
"If  industry,"  says  Olivier,  "would  be  good  for  the  black 
man  and  if  it  is  essential  that  he  should  learn  to  be  more 

'Olivier,  op.  oif.,  96. 


COLONIES  AND  TEADE  257 

industrious,  the  impulse  must  not  come  from  forcible  pres- 
sure on  the  part  of  the  would-be  employer,  or  it  will  leave 
no  permanent  gain,  save  suspicion  and  estrangement  be- 
tween the  races.  It  certainly  does  not  leave  the  habit  of 
industry.  That  can  only  be  maintained  by  the  stimulus 
of  the  worker's  own  quickened  will."  ® 

Colonies  were  in  most  cases  gained  by  military  force.  In 
face  of  the  irritation  caused  by  interference  with  native 
customs,  and  by  attempts  to  exploit  native  resources  and 
labor,  they  can  be  held  only  by  force.  The  expense  of  oc- 
cupation, of  keeping  order  and  crushing  revolts,  is  borne 
primarily,  not  by  the  investors  in  the  exploited  territory, 
but  by  the  taxpayers  at  home.  Attempts  have  been  made 
to  shift  the  burden  to  the  people  of  the  colony,  through 
heavy  taxation.  But  such  a  course  not  only  hinders  eco- 
nomic development,  but  encourages  revolt  and  further 
expense. 

The  Spanish  colonies  were  a  constant  drain  on  the  na- 
tional treasury,  and  their  loss  came  as  an  economic  relief. 
France,  before  the  War,  was  spending  in  her  annual  budget 
an  average  of  $20,446,957  on  her  colonies,  outside  of  the 
navy  and  the  colonial  army.  Italy's  colonial  adventure  in 
Tripoli  was  undertaken  largely  in  the  interest  of  the  Banco 
di  Koma  and  other  financial  groups,  but  the  people  of  Italy 
paid  the  bill.  In  the  Herero  revolt  in  Southwest  Africa,  it 
cost  the  German  people  $160,000,000  to  kill  off  between 
20,000  and  30,000  of  the  natives.  The  United  States  spent 
about  that  amount  for  a  very  much  larger  job  of  the  same 
sort  in  the  Philippines,  and  Edward  Atkinson  estimated 
the  resulting  increase  in  army  and  navy  expenditure  at 
$2.00  per  year  for  each  person.  Unless  substantial  and 
general  trade  advantages  can  be  secured  through  colonies, 
permanent  exploitation  does  not  compensate  the  people  of 
the  home  country  for  the  added  burden  of  taxation,  how- 
ever great  the  returns  to  individual  investors. 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  19th  century,  through  the  in- 

•Op.  cit.,  159. 


258  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

fluence  of  humanitarian  sentiment  and  the  teaching  of  the 
Free  Trade  school,  British  colonial  policy  underwent  a 
radical  change.  The  practical  independence  of  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking colonies  was  recognized.  And  other  parts 
of  the  Empire  were  considered  as  in  training  for  self-gov- 
ernment. What  especially  interests  us  is  the  fact  that  the 
tropical  colony  came  to  be  regarded,  not  as  a  possession, 
but  as  a  trust,  to  be  administered  for  the  benefit  of  the 
native  population.  With  many  exceptions  in  theory  and 
practice,  this  policy  has  been  followed  in  recent  years  by 
the  British  and  the  Dutch.  And  the  relative  success  of 
their  colonies,  from  the  standpoint  of  the  taxpayer  at  home, 
is  seen  in  the  low  cost  of  administration,  as  well  as  in  the 
development  of  trade,  of  which  I  shall  speak  in  a  moment. 

This  essentially  Christian  principle  has  been  recognized 
in  the  section  on  Mandatories  of  the  League  of  I^ations 
Covenant.  "To  those  colonies  and  territories  which  as  a 
consequence  of  the  late  war  have  ceased  to  be  under  the 
sovereignty  of  the  States  which  formerly  governed  them, 
and  which  are  inhabited  by  peoples  not  yet  able  to  stand  by 
themselves  under  the  strenuous  conditions  of  the  modern 
world,  there  should  be  applied  the  principle  that  the  well- 
being  and  development  of  such  peoples  form  a  sacred  trust 
of  civilization,  and  that  securities  for  the  performance  of 
this  trust  should  be  embodied  in  this  covenant.  The  best 
method  of  giving  practicable  effect  to  this  principle  is  that 
the  tutelage  of  such  peoples  be  entrusted  to  advanced  na- 
tions who,  by  reason  of  their  resources,  their  experience, 
or  their  geographical  position,  can  best  undertake  this  re- 
sponsibility, and  who  are  willing  to  accept  it,  and  that  this 
tutelage  should  be  exercised  by  them  as  mandatories  on 
behalf  of  the  League." 

Turning  to  the  question  of  trade,  it  is  obvious  that  the 
opportunity  to  market  tropical  products  and  sell  goods 
to  the  native  people,  is  likely  to  be  of  general  advantage 
to  any  industrial  nation.  The  largest  opportunities  for 
commercial  expansion  are  in  this  field.    Whether  the  pos- 


COLONIES  AND  TRADE  259 

session  of  colonies  will  be  beneficial,  from  this  standpoint, 
appears  to  depend  on  the  way  they  are  handled.  We  are 
again  confronted  with  two  opposite  lines  of  policy. 

Trade  may  be  secured  by  a  nation  through  monopoly. 
Preferential  tariffs  are  used  to  divert  the  commerce  of  the 
colony  to  the  home  country.  The  results  of  this  policy  are 
a  good  illustration  of  the  working  of  Jesus'  law  of  action 
and  reaction.  Commercial  selfishness  tends  to  defeat  it- 
self, in  three  principal  ways.  In  the  first  place,  experi- 
ence shows  that,  under  such  a  system,  the  normal  develop- 
ment of  native  wants  and  local  industries  is  slower  than 
where  trade  can  follow  regular  lines  of  supply  and  demand. 
If  world  markets  are  not  open,  the  colony  sells  less,  and 
therefore  buys  less.  Secondly,  as  goods  from  the  home 
country  pay  no  duty,  and  as  the  neutral  merchant  tends 
to  be  driven  away  by  high  duties  and  vexatious  restrictions, 
little  revenue  is  derived  from  customs,  and  the  colony  be- 
comes expensive  from  the  standpoint  of  administration. 
In  the  third  place,  the  preferential  tariff  barrier,  by  keep- 
ing out  goods  which  could  be  bought  to  better  advan- 
tage elsewhere,  means  a  higher  price  charged  by  the  pro- 
ducer and  paid  by  the  consumer.  In  the  matter  of  ex- 
ports, the  merchants  are  able  to  charge  the  colonists  more 
for  their  manufactured  goods.  Home  industries  are  stimu- 
lated by  the  fact  that  they  have  a  practical  monopoly  of 
the  colonial  market.  But  in  imports  from  the  colony,  the 
persons  benefited  are  not  the  idtimate  producers.  The  mer- 
chants pay  the  colonists  no  more  for  their  produce.  And 
when  they  sell  it  to  the  people  of  the  home  country,  they 
raise  the  price  to  the  level  of  similar  produce  from  other 
countries,  after  the  high  duty  has  been  paid.  A  few  fav- 
ored individuals  are  financially  benefited.  But  the  cost  of 
living  is  raised  and  purchasing  power  lowered  for  both  the 
people  of  the  home  country  and  the  people  of  the  colony. 
The  net  result  is  a  serious  constriction  of  trade,  for  both 
home  country  and  colony. 

Of  the  many  examples  which  might  be  given  from  mod- 


260  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

em  colonial  history,  the  most  outstanding  is  that  of  France. 
In  1892  the  protectionist  reaction  led  to  the  assimila- 
tion of  the  principal  French  colonies  to  the  high  customs 
duties  of  the  mother  country.  That  is,  a  tariff  wall, 
amounting  to  a  preference  of  from  60  to  100  per  cent, 
was  erected  to  keep  colonial  trade  in  the  hands  of  French 
merchants.  The  system  has  worked  so  badly  that  it  has 
aroused  a  growing  protest,  not  only  from  the  colonies 
themselves,  but  from  the  Chambers  of  Commerce  of  Havre, 
Lyons,  Marseilles  and  Paris.  In  the  words  of  the  latter : 
"Tariff  assimilation  has  been  as  dangerous  as  political 
assimilation.  .  .  .  The  regime  of  1892  has  checked  the 
development  of  the  colonies  and  has  impoverished  them." 
To  be  specific,  let  us  take  the  case  of  Madagascar.  In 
1897,  when  the  preferential  tariff  policy  was  applied  by 
placing  the  island  among  the  assimilated  colonies,  the  ex- 
ternal commerce,  chiefly  imports,  amounted  to  20  million 
francs,  about  equally  divided  between  France  and  her 
colonies  and  England  and  her  colonies.  By  1912,  with 
the  building  of  a  railroad  and  the  development  of  agricul- 
ture, exports  had  risen  to  nearly  60  million.  Of  this 
France  absorbed  41  million.  Imports  totalled  50  million 
francs,  of  which  France  supplied  44  million.  If  the  item 
of  fabrics  is  subtracted,  however,  the  import  trade  had  di- 
minished rather  than  increased.  "Madagascar,"  says 
Professor  Girault,  "gives  on  the  whole  the  impression  of 
a  new  colony  whose  growth  has  been  abruptly  checked  by 
the  application  of  an  ultra-protectionist  regime.  The  com- 
merce of  a  colony  to  which  so  many  Frenchmen  have 
brought  their  capital,  should  not  have  been  limited  to  100,- 
000,000  francs,  nor  indeed  to  150,000,000  or  200,000,000. 
The  results  obtained  are  far  from  being  commensurate  with 
the  efforts  made.  The  high  cost  of  living  from  which  the 
European  in  Madagascar  suffers,  as  much  as  the  native, 
has  thwarted  the  good  intentions  of  the  colonists.  It  has 
prevented  the  native  from  satisfying  the  new  wants  which 
the  Europeans  were  endeavoring  to  create  in  him.     Cus- 


COLONIES  AND  TEADE  261 

toms  duties  have  raised  by  forty-five  per  cent  the  price  of 
cotton  goods  in  Madagascar.  Was  not  this  to  render  the 
merchandise  unattainable  for  a  set  of  poor  customers? 
Thanks  to  the  regime  of  assimilation,  the  external  com- 
merce of  Madagascar  is,  to  be  sure,  wholly  in  the  hands  of 
the  French.  But  the  colony  has  paid  dearly  for  this  gain 
in  French  trade.  Foreign  commerce  disappeared,  and 
with  it  the  revenue  from  the  customs  duties.  Import  duties 
in  1912  brought  in  only  930,000  francs  to  the  colony. 
This  does  not  represent  a  thirtieth  of  the  receipts  requisite 
to  budgetary  equilibrium.  .  .  .  The  colony,  in  order  to 
cover  its  budgetary  requirements,  has  been  obliged  to  have 
recourse  to  other  imposts,  heavy  and  ill-suited  to  its  con- 
dition. To  supplement  the  customs  duties,  it  has  been 
necessary  to  create  consumption  taxes,  falling  upon  French 
products  as  well  as  upon  foreign  products,  which  increase 
still  more  the  cost  of  European  merchandise  imported  into 
Madagascar.  The  natives,  the  colonists,  and  the  govern- 
ment of  the  colony  have  all  been  sacrificed.  A  single 
French  industry,  cotton  manufacture,  has  drawn  an  ap- 
preciable profit  from  the  application  of  the  system.  This 
profit  may  be  calculated  at  approximately  ten  millions  in 
fifteen  years.  It  was  to  permit  this  class  of  manufactur- 
ers, important,  no  doubt,  but  narrowly  limited,  to  gain 
these  ten  millions,  that  the  fortunes  of  a  country  larger 
than  France  have  been  compromised.  The  discrepancy 
between  the  advantages  gained  by  the  manufacturers  and 
the  sacrifices  imposed  upon  the  colonials  is  truly  shocking. 
'It  would  have  been  an  advantage  to  the  colony,'  some  one 
has  written,  'to  have  paid  an  indemnity  of  ten  millions  to 
the  French  textile  manufacturers  and  thus  to  have  recov- 
ered liberty  of  action  in  the  matter  of  its  customs 
duties.' "  » 

The  second  policy  is  that  of  the  open  door,  where  the 

•Arthur  Girault,  The  Colonial  Ta/riff  Policy  of  France,  1916,  222. 
Cf.  Reinsch,  Colonial  Administration,  238;  Wm.  S.  Culbertson,  Com^ 
merdal  Policy  in  War  Time  and  After,  1919,  chap's  15-16. 


262  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

people  of  the  colony  are  left  free  to  trade  with  whom  they 
will.  Import  and  export  duties  may  be  levied  for  the  sake 
of  revenue,  or  to  protect  colonial  industries.  They  are 
not  used  to  give  a  preference  to  merchants  in  the  home 
country.  In  this  policy  the  British  were  the  pioneers. 
The  handling  of  the  colony  as  a  trust,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  native  population,  brought  opportunities  for  trade  from 
which  the  British  people  benefited,  along  with  the  rest 
of  the  world.  In  this  case,  the  advantage  to  be  gained 
depended  not  on  special  privilege  but  on  goodwill  and 
superior  service,  that  is  on  the  common  interest  of  home 
country  and  colony.  Competition  of  markets  kept  down 
costs  to  the  consumer,  both  in  the  home  country  and  in  the 
colony,  increased  purchasing  power,  and  stimulated  trade. 
Fortunate  in  the  location  of  her  tropical  colonies,  and  wise 
in  their  handling,  the  open  door  policy  helped  in  the  later 
development  of  Britain  as  a  great  trading  nation.  A  simi- 
lar story,  from  the  colonies  of  the  ^Netherlands,  will  be 
told  in  the  next  chapter.  In  French  West  Africa,  which 
is  on  a  free  trade  basis,  the  commerce  of  the  home  coun- 
try has  shown  rapid  development,  in  the  face  of  severe 
competition.^^ 

Where  the  open  door  door  policy  prevails,  trade  follows 
supply  and  demand,  rather  than  the  flag.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  own  colonies  in  order  to  secure  tropical  markets,  as 
we  see  from  the  success  of  Danish  and  Belgian  firms.  In 
fact  ownership  may  bring  the  curse  of  bureaucracy  and 
prove  a  serious  handicap.  German  trade  with  her  own 
colonies  was  a  minor  item,  paying  very  low  interest  on  the 
national  investment.  As  Reinsch  said:  "German  com- 
merce is  most  prosperous  where  there  are  no  German  of- 
ficials."    With  British  possessions,  however,  for  whose 

*•  Britain  has  been,  in  some  cases,  as  guilty  as  the  closed  door 
countries  in  discouraging  local  industrial  development  in  her  col- 
onies. Part  of  the  poverty  of  India  must  be  attributed  to  a  tariff 
policy  dictated  by  cotton  manufacturers  in  England.  The  sugar 
industry  has  also  been  hindered,  in  the  interest  of  the  sugar 
plantations  of  Mauritius,  managed  by  British  capitalists. 


COLONIES  AND  TRADE  263 

conquest  and  administration  she  was  at  no  expense,  she  did 
a  large  and  growing  business.  In  1913,  Germany  sold  In- 
dia $35,876,000  worth  of  goods,  an  increase  of  91%  in 
^ye  years,  and  bought  $128,936,000,  an  increase  of  73%. 
In  fact  about  half  of  her  imports  came  directly  or  in- 
directly from  the  British  colonies. 

The  chief  advantage  in  having  colonies  of  your  own,  is 
to  prevent  such  regions  from  being  closed  to  your  com- 
merce by  trade  monopoly.  Germany  had  long  been 
haunted  by  the  fear  of  a  British  Zollverein,  an  exclusive 
trade  area,  which  would  shut  out  the  merchants  of  other 
nations,  as  British  merchants  had  been  driven  from  Mada- 
gascar. For  this  feeling  there  was  some  justification  in 
the  tentative  steps  taken  for  preferential  tariffs  within 
the  British  Empire.  Fear  of  tariff  reprisals  kept  German 
colonies  nominally  open  to  world  trade. 

Colonies  are  increasingly  difficult  to  hold,  in  the  face  of 
nationalist  movements.  ^^  In  their  treatment  of  other  peo- 
ples, the  industrial  countries  have  brought  out  a  danger- 
ous reaction  among  the  native  populations  of  Asia  and 
Africa.  Some  examples  of  this  will  be  given  in  the  next 
chapter. 

It  is  unfortunate  for  the  peace  of  the  world  that  nations 
are  inclined  to  take  the  short  view  of  selfish  exploitation, 
rather  than  the  long  view  of  mutual  advantage,  as  advo- 
cated by  the  political  economist.  To  this  subject  we  shall 
return,  in  our  chapter  on  Internationalism.  Colonial  prac- 
tice is  apt  to  go  contrary  to  the  most  approved  colonial  ex- 
perience. But  it  is  this  experience,  with  its  witness  at 
various  points  to  the  law  of  common  interest,  which  con- 
firms our  picture  of  a  Christian  Universe.  We  are  con- 
cerned not  so  much  with  human  nature,  as  with  the  world 
to  which  human  nature  must  in  the  long  run  adjust  itself. 

"See  Lothrop  Stoddard,  The  Rising  Tide  of  Color,  1920,  whose 
value  as  a  historical  summary  is  independent  of  the  author's 
vagaries  about  the  Nordic  race;  Herbert  A.  Gibbons,  New  Map  of 
Asia,  1919  J  H.  M.  Hyndman,  The  Aioakening  of  Asia,  1919. 


XXII. 

THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES. 

We  have  been  considering,  on  somewliat  broad  lines,  tbe 
competitive  theory  of  national  relations,  in  both  its  mili- 
tary and  its  commercial  aspects.  In  this  chapter  I  pro- 
pose to  examine  certain  specii&c  cases  of  action  and  reac- 
tion. My  object  is  to  show  how  the  law  of  common  interest 
operates.  Cases  are  chosen  to  illustrate  a  variety  of  ob- 
jects, from  independent  nations  to  conquered  regions,  and 
from  civilization  to  backwardness  and  savagery.  Unfor- 
tunately most  of  them  show  the  lack  rather  than  the  pres- 
ence of  goodwill.  If  the  method  of  Behavior  Psychology 
makes  good  in  this  field,  future  statesmen  will  ask,  in  re- 
gard to  any  course  of  action  affecting  other  peoples :  What 
reaction  will  it  bring  out  in  the  people  concerned  ?  Will 
this  be  favorable,  or  unfavorable  ?  According  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  Jesus  that  is  practically  the  same  as  asking: 
What  course  of  action  is  right? 

The  leading  nations  of  Europe  have  followed  a  very  dif- 
ferent principle.  To  round  out  the  story  of  the  World 
War,  we  may  take  the  diplomatic  history  which  gave  Ger- 
many the  feeling  of  being  thwarted  in  her  policy  of  ex- 
pansion. The  Turkish  Empire,  potentially  rich  but  unde- 
veloped, offered  a  far  more  promising  field  for  WeltpolUih 
than  African  jungles  or  Pacific  islands.  Railway  conces- 
sions granted  to  German  financiers  in  1888,  developed  into 
the  plan  for  a  line  through  Bagdad  to  the  Persian  Gulf. 
The  visits  of  Emperor  William  to  Turkey  in  1889  and 
1898,  led  among  other  things  to  a  concession  for  the  con- 
struction of  this  railway.    The  only  feasible  terminus  was 

264 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     265 

the  port  of  Koweit,  ruled  by  a  sheik  who  was  practically 
independent  of  Turkey.  When  the  German  mission  ar- 
rived at  Koweit  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements,  they 
found  that  the  British  had  been  ahead  of  them.  A  secret 
convention  had  already  been  arranged  by  Col.  Meade,  the 
British  resident  of  the  Persian  Gulf.  In  return  for  spe- 
cial protection,  the  sheik  bound  himself  to  make  no  cession 
of  territory  without  the  consent  of  the  British  government. 
The  Sublime  Porte,  under  German  prodding,  sent  a  vessel 
to  Koweit  in  1901.  But  British  warships  were  on  hand  to 
uphold  the  independence  of  the  sheik. 

The  seen©  shifts  to  iNorth  Airica.  In  1904,  a  secret 
agreement  was  drawn  up  between  Britain  and  France,  by 
which  Britain  was  given  a  free  hand  in  Egypt,  in  return 
for  recognition  of  the  special  interests  of  France  in 
Morocco.  Alarmed  over  this  extension  of  rival  influence 
in  another  potentially  rich  territory,  Germany  seized  a 
favorable  opportunity  to  force  the  international  Conven- 
tion of  Algeciras,  in  1906,  which  guaranteed  the  complete 
independence  of  Morocco.  No  one  lived  up  to  it.  While 
German  colonists  were  doing  their  best  to  make  German 
intervention  necessary,  France  was  taking  advantage  of 
tribal  wars  to  undermine  the  Sultan's  authority.  On  May 
21,  1911,  French  forces  occupied  the  capital.  The  Sultan 
was  soon  obliged  to  put  himself  under  the  protection  of 
the  French  army.  Germany  sent  a  warship  to  the  port 
of  Agadir.  But  in  the  end  she  was  forced  to  recognize 
a  French  protectorate  in  Morocco,  in  return  for  minor 
cessions  of  territory  in  equatorial  Africa. 

The  scene  shifts  back  to  the  East.  Persia's  revolution, 
on  New  Year's  Day,  1907,  which  secured  the  granting  of  a 
constitution,  was  followed  by  the  Anglo-Eussian  Conven- 
tion of  August  31.  Burying  their  past  differences,  these 
two  nations  divided  Persia  into  spheres  of  influence,  Russia 
taking  the  North  and  Britain  the  South.  Germany  tried 
Turkish  intervention  in  northern  Persia.  She  sent  her 
agents  to  stir  opposition  to  the  Convention  among  the  Per- 


266  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

sian  constitutionalists.  Russia  countered  by  backing  tbe 
reactionary  Shah,  and  in  1909  occupied  parts  of  the  ter- 
ritory to  suppress  civil  strife.  Germany  then  tried  to 
make  terms  with  Eussia,  and  concluded  the  Accord  of 
Potsdam,  which  guaranteed  the  open  door  in  itsTorth  Persia. 
But  the  Russian  troops  were  not  withdrawn.  Persia  had 
lost  her  constitution  and  her  independence,  and  Germany 
another  chance  for  expansion.  Her  political  control  of 
Turkey,  Morocco  and  Persia  might  have  proved  of  doubt- 
ful commercial  value.  But  all  parties  concerned  thought 
such  "possessions"  an  advantage,  and  their  lack  a  serious 
disadvantage.  Under  the  circumstances,  a  European  war 
had  become  inevitable.  The  leading  men  of  Germany  felt 
that  she  was  being  crowded  to  the  wall,  that  her  future 
demanded  the  crushing  of  France  and  Russia,  and  a  pos- 
sible contest  with  Great  Britain.^ 

The  treatment  of  China  by  stronger  nations  is  of  spe- 
cial interest,  as  it  furnishes  examples  of  both  favorable  and 
unfavorable  reaction.  In  1900,  European  exploitation 
brought  the  Boxer  outbreak.  This  was  suppressed  by  an 
allied  expeditionary  force,  which  captured  Pekin.  John 
Hay,  who  was  serving  as  Secretary  of  State  for  the  United 
States,  insisted  that  the  Chinese  government  was  still  in 
existence,  and  that  its  territory  must  not  be  partitioned. 
He  was  able  to  obtain  from  the  Powers  a  declaration  for 
the  open  door  in  China.  An  indemnity  of  over  $687,000,- 
000  had  been  imposed  for  the  outbreak.  Of  this,  America's 
share  was  $24,000,000,  payable  in  40  annual  installments, 
with  interest  at  4%.  Finding  that  this  sum  was  far  in 
excess  of  the  cost  of  the  Pekin  expedition  and  the  losses 
of  American  citizens,  the  United  States  arranged  that  the 
annual  installments  should  be  diminished.  The  amount 
thus  remitted  will  amount  by  1940  to  over  $39,000,000. 
The  effect  on  China  of  this  treatment  was  immediate  and 

*The  story  has  been  written  many  times.  I  have  followed  the 
account  of  Herbert  A.  Gibbons,  The  'New  Map  of  Europe,  3rd  ed., 
1915. 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHEE  PEOPLES     267 

strong.  It  brought  a  general  feeling  of  confidence  and 
friendship  toward  the  United  States,  for  which  a  basis 
had  already  been  laid  in  the  philanthropic  work  of  Ameri- 
can missionaries.  The  Chinese  government  decided  to 
use  the  amounts  remitted  as  a  fund  for  educating  Chinese 
students  in  America,  a  policy  still  carried  out.  The  good- 
will engendered  carried  with  it  a  strong  preference  for 
American  trade.  The  force  of  this  example  is  not  weak- 
ened by  the  fact  that  we  were  not  quick  to  take  advantage 
of  the  commercial  opening,  and  that  our  treatment  of 
Chinese  in  this  country  and  the  conduct  of  some  of  our 
financiers  in  regard  to  railway  concessions  did  much  to 
neutralize  the  former  goodwill.  America  has  still  to  learn 
that,  in  dealing  with  Orientals,  she  is  dealing  with  her  best 
prospective  customers.^ 

In  1897,  the  murder  of  two  missionaries  had  given  Ger- 
many the  necessary  excuse  for  extorting  a  lease  of  the  port 
of  Kiao  Chau  for  99  years,  with  preferential  rights  in  the 
development  of  the  rich  Shantung  peninsula,  the  holy  land 
of  China.  According  to  Gibbons,  traders  in  the  home 
country  '^ave  claimed  that  the  political  presence  of  Ger- 
many on  the  Shantung  peninsula  and  the  dealings  of  the 
German  diplomats  with  the  Pekin  court  had  so  prejudiced 
the  Chinese  against  everything  German  that  it  was  harder 
to  do  business  with  them  than  before  the  leasehold  was 
granted.  They  actually  advocated  the  withdrawal  of  the 
protectorate  for  the  good  of  German  commerce !"  ' 

In  1914,  Japan,  under  the  dominance  of  the  military- 
party,*  entered  the  War,  and  took  over  the  German  hold- 

'See  Sidney  L.  Gulick,  The  Fight  for  Peace,  1915,  chap's  9  and 
10;  John  W.  Foster,  Am.  Diplomacy  in  the  Orient,  1903,  423  ff. 

*  New  Map  of  Europe,  45. 

*  Imperialism  of  this  Prussian  brand  has  been  consistently  op- 
posed by  the  Liberal  party  in  Japan.  It  is  unfortunate  that  the 
"behavior"  of  a  nation  should  be  so  largely  determined  by  the  policy 
of  the  group  which  controls  the  government.  We  have  the  same 
thing  in  Industry.  Many  of  the  stockholders  and  directors  of  a 
corporation  may  be  liberal  minded.  Yet  if  a  majority  of  the  direc- 
tors, or  even  a  dominating  executive,  is  reactionary,  the  policy  of 
the   company  will   be   reactionary;    the   response   of  employees  ar 


268  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

ingg,  whicli  had  thwarted  her  own  plans  for  the  develop- 
ment of  Shantung.  The  capture  of  Kiao  Chau  was  pre- 
ceded by  the  military  occupation  of  the  entire  province. 
On  May  8,  1915,  China  was  compelled  to  accede  to  the 
majority  of  the  Twenty-one  Demands.  These  confirmed 
Japan's  claims  in  Shantung,  Manchuria  and  Mongolia, 
gave  her  practical  control  of  the  Chinese  iron  industry,  and 
a  basis  for  the  future  exploitation  of  Fukien  province, 
opposite  Formosa.  This  was  followed  by  large  loans  to  the 
corrupt  and  subservient  officials  who  had  come  to  be  in 
charge  of  the  government.  Part  of  the  money  was  used  to 
build  up  a  military  force  that  would  maintain  this  pro- 
Japanese  party  in  power  in  JSTorth  China.  Meanwhile, 
the  country  was  flooded  with  cheap  Japanese  goods.  Secret 
agreements  secured  during  the  War  from  England,  France, 
Russia  and  Italy,  made  it  necessary  for  the  Peace  Confer- 
ence to  grant  Japan's  claim  to  Shantung. 

This  decision  was  announced  at  Paris  on  April  30, 
1919.  The  reaction  in  China  began  among  the  students. 
In  Pekin,  on  May  4,  a  body  of  3000  tried  to  appeal  to  the 
ambassadors  of  the  Allies.  Prevented  by  soldiers  from 
entering  the  Legation  Quarter,  they  marched  to  the  home 
of  the  former  Minister  of  Finance,  where  they  found 
also  the  former  ambassador  to  Japan.  Both  men  were 
attacked,  and  the  latter  badly  beaten.  Plans  were  matured 
during  the  Week  of  N'ational  Humiliation,  which  had  been 
observed  each  year  in  memory  of  the  Twenty-one  Demands. 
The  organizing  of  students  proceeded  throughout  the 
country.  Their  platform  contained  four  planks :  dismissal 
of  corrupt  and  treasonable  officials;  a  guarantee  from  the 
Allied  governments  of  the  immediate  return  of  Shantung ; 
a  cancellation  of  the  21  demands,  agreed  to  under  duress ; 

public  may  be  predicted  on  that  basis.  I  do  not  mean  in  this 
book  to  cast  national  balances.  But  in  fairness  to  Japan  two  other 
things  should  be  noted.  In  her  treatment  of  China  she  was  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  other  nations.  And  the  history  of  Japan 
since  1895  is  largely  her  reaction  to  foreign  interference  at  the  close 
of  the  war  with  China. 


THE  TEEATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     269 

freedom  of  speech  and  press.  To  enforce  this  program 
the  measures  decided  on  were  a  boycott  against  Japanese 
goods  and  a  student  campaign  to  arouse  patriotism.  On 
May  26,  pupils  in  the  various  cities  struck  and  gave  them- 
selves to  the  work  of  propaganda.  In  Shanghai  alone 
20,000  met  and  paraded.  The  boycott  was  taken  up  by 
the  merchants  and  rigidly  enforced.  Japanese  goods  were 
taken  out  and  burned,  Japanese  banknotes  were  refused, 
the  pledge  was  made  not  to  buy  any  more  goods  from 
Japan.  On  June  3,  a  thousand  students  were  arrested  for 
patriotic  demonstrations.  In  protest,  stores  in  Shanghai 
and  other  cities  closed  their  doors,  with  the  statement  that 
they  would  not  do  business  while  traitors  remained  in 
office.  Train  men  joined  the  national  strike,  and  other 
classes  of  workers  followed.  On  June  8  the  student  pris- 
oners were  released  with  apologies,  and  on  June  12  the 
three  most  obnoxious  pro-Japanese  officials  were  dismissed. 
The  stores  reopened  with  a  flourish.  Weak  as  it  was,  the 
Chinese  government  refused  to  sign  the  Peace  Treaty. 

The  anti-Japanese  boycott,  which  still  continues,  was 
extremely  serious,  and  contributed  largely  to  the  financial 
crisis  in  Japan  in  the  Spring  of  1920.  The  trade  of 
Japanese  steamship  lines  fell  from  154  tons  per  trip  in 
1918  to  barely  71  tons  during  the  first  ten  months  of  1919. 
The  company  which  was  operating  a  system  of  palatial 
steamers  on  Chinese  rivers,  found  its  vessels  practically 
deserted  for  the  old  and  undesirable  ships  of  its  British 
competitors,  and  was  losing  money  at  the  rate  of  a  million 
yen  a  month.  Japanese  toys  practically  disappeared  from 
China.  From  May  to  September,  1919,  cotton  cloth  im- 
ported from  Japan  fell  from  867,000  to  167,000  yards; 
umbrellas  from  343,000  to  6,000;  canvas  bags  dropped 
off  66.9  per  cent;  matches  46.1  per  cent;  paper  64.6 
per  cent.^ 

"W.  Reginald  Wheeler,  Current  History,  10,  pt.  2,  534,  Sept., 
1919;  Millard's  Review,  Jan.  3,  1920;  John  and  Alice  C.  Dewey, 
Letters  from  China  and  Japan,  1920;  B.  L.  Putnam- Weale,  The 
Fight  for  the  Bepublio  of  China,  1917. 


270  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

The  reversal  of  Britisli  colonial  policy  during  the  19tli 
century  has  already  been  noted.  As  regards  the  reaction 
of  English-speaking  settlers  in  the  temperate  regions,  the 
difference  is  highly  instructive.  The  attempt  at  the  close 
of  the  previous  century  to  treat  the  American  colonies  as 
a  possession,  to  be  exploited  through  taxation  and  exclusive 
trade,  led  to  the  Revolutionary  War  and  the  loss  of  what 
would  have  become  the  richest  portion  of  the  British  Em- 
pire. Taking  a  leaf  out  of  experience,  the  later  colonies  of 
the  same  type  were  allowed  to  become  practically  self- 
governing,  with  little  more  than  a  sentimental  connection 
with  England.  They  have  since  given  two  most  substantial 
expressions  of  goodwill.  Preferential  tariffs  in  favor  of 
British  trade  were  adopted,  as  a  purely  voluntary  act, 
by  Canada,  South  Africa,  Australia  and  ^N'ew  Zealand.  In 
the  World  War,  these  countries  came  to  England's  aid  with 
a  remarkable  outpouring  of  men  and  money.  Canada 
alone,  out  of  a  population  of  approximately  8,000,000, 
contributed  610,031  men,  of  whom  a  tenth  never  returned, 
and  over  a  billion  and  a  half  dollars.  Having  lived  on  the 
border  during  the  War  period,  in  sound  of  Canadian 
bugles,  within  reach  of  Canadian  scorn,  and  with  many 
close  friends  in  the  overseas  service,  I  gained  a  very  deep 
impression  of  the  loyalty  of  the  Dominion. 

In  the  cases  now  to  be  considered,  we  shall  find  a  phe- 
nomenon similar  to  that  already  met  with  in  the  Indus- 
trial field.  The  primary  reaction  of  human  groups  is  not 
physical  or  economic,  but  psychological.  The  group,  like 
the  individual,  desires  something  more  than  fair  treatment 
and  material  prosperity.  It  craves  self-expression,  the 
right  to  live  its  group  life  with  independence  and  dignity. 
The  rise  of  this  spirit  of  racial  nationalism  has  greatly 
complicated  European  politics,  and  made  its  proper  han- 
dling much  more  delicate.  Until  the  close  of  the  18th  cen- 
tury, racial  antagonisms  counted  for  little.  Russian  and 
Finn,  Magyar  and  Rouman,  lived  side  by  side,  with  prac- 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     271 

tically  no  irritation  due  to  racial  differences.  With  the 
French  Revolution,  rivalries  and  wars,  hitherto  merely 
dynastic,  began  to  take  on  a  popular  character.  l!Tational 
unity  came  to  be  found  in  common  blood.  New  value  was 
attached  to  racial  language  and  traditions.  The  explora- 
tions of  scholars  in  the  field  of  history  and  philology,  with 
the  consequent  revival  of  ancient  speech  and  literature, 
came  at  a  time  of  keen  rivalry,  "when  everything  that 
tended  to  stimulate  racial  vanity  was  caught  up  and  used 
by  those  statesmen  and  other  leaders  who  sought  to  embark 
on  policies  of  expansion  and  aggression  even  at  the  cost 
of  arousing  national  jealousies  or  embittering  national  ani- 
mosities." ^ 

Whatever  we  may  think  of  this  movement  in  the  ab- 
stract, it  is  here  in  very  concrete  fashion,  to  be  reckoned 
with  in  national  action  and  reaction.  Take  for  example 
the  case  of  Slesvig,  which  could  be  duplicated  a  score  of 
times  in  modern  Europe.  In  1864,  the  duchies  of  Slesvig- 
Holstein  were  taken  from  Denmark  by  the  Austrian  and 
Prussian  armies,  and  later  united  to  Prussia.  The 
population  of  North  Slesvig  was  predominantly  Danish. 
Systematic  attempts  were  made  by  Prussia  to  Germanize 
the  district.  The  name  of  the  province  wasi  written 
Schleswig.  German  was  made  the  official  language,  and 
was  gradually  substituted  for  Danish,  not  only  in  the  courts 
and  the  army,  but  in  the  churches,  the  schools,  and  even 
on  the  playground.  The  mere  singing  of  Danish  national 
songs  in  the  home  was  a  cause  for  arrest.  The  result  of 
such  measures  was  the  exact  opposite  of  that  intended. 
They  merely  stimulated  the  racial  feeling  which  Prussian 
officials  were  attempting  to  suppress.  In  1905,  of  the 
148,000  inhabitants  of  North  Schleswig,  139,000  spoke 
Danish,  including  more  than  a  third  of  the  children  of 
German-speaking  immigrants.  The  Peace  Treaty,  at  the 
close  of  the  World  War,  made  provision  for  the  plebiscite 
promised  in  1866  but  never  held.  The  vote  on  reunion 
'James  Bryce,  Race  Sentiment  as  a  Factor  in  History,  1915. 


272  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

with  Denmark  stood  75,023  for,  and  25,087  against.  The 
latter  vote  came  almost  exclusively  from  the  descendants  of 
German  settlers,  and  from  German  officials  and  soldiers 
born  within  the  voting  zone. 

For  more  complex  reactions,  under  the  form  of  nation- 
alism, I  select  the  case  of  Egypt.  It  illustrates,  at  the  same 
time,  the  effect  on  the  Oriental  mind  of  the  impact  of 
Western  civilization.  In  1882,  the  anarchy  in  connection 
with  Arabics  revolt  led  to  a  reluctant  intervention  by  the 
British  government.  It  was  believed  at  the  time  that  the 
occupation  of  Egypt  would  be  merely  temporary.  An 
actual  protectorate  was  veiled  under  the  fictions  of  Turkish 
suzerainty  and  the  local  authority  of  the  Khedive.  The 
object  of  the  British  was  to  restore  order  and  put  Egypt 
on  its  feet  financially.  The  enormous  foreign  debts  con- 
tracted by  the  Khedive  Ismail  made  this  no  easy  task.  Its 
successful  accomplishment  was  due  to  the  administrative 
genius  of  Sir  Evelyn  Baring,  afterward  Lord  Cromer,  who 
was  sent  out  as  agent  and  consul  general  in  1884,  after 
previous  service  in  connection  with  the  Franco-British 
commission  controlling  the  Egyptian  debt.  For  23  years 
he  gave  himself  to  the  slow  and  laborious  work  of  recon- 
struction. The  record  of  those  years  is  one  of  the  marvels 
of  modern  history.  Egypt  was  given  an  efficient  and  hon- 
est administration.  Taxes  were  lightened,  and  forced  labor 
of  the  peasants  abolished.  The  native  army,  trained  by 
Kitchener,  reconquered  the  Soudan.  The  great  Assuan 
dam  and  other  irrigation  works  assured  a  regular  supply 
of  water  and  an  increased  area  under  cultivation.  Abject 
poverty  gave  place  to  prosperity.  England  had  proved 
the  title  to  her  guardianship.  If  she  gained  from  the  re- 
vival of  Egyptian  trade,  it  was  "not  at  the  expense  of 
others,  but  along  with  others."  As  Milner  said  proudly, 
"neither  directly  nor  indirectly  has  Great  Britain  drawn 
from  her  predominant  position  any  profit  at  the  expense 
of  other  nations." 

The  earlier  reactions  of  the  Egyptian  people  were  favor- 


THE  TEEATMENT  OF  OTHEK  PEOPLES     273 

able.  They  were  grateful  for  the  benefits  which  British 
rule  conferred.  As  the  memory  of  the  former  oppression 
faded,  however,  occupation  was  accepted,  as  Chirol  says, 
with  "growing  impatience  of  the  tutelage  they  believed 
themselves  to  have  outgrown."  "^  Lord  Cromer  was  con- 
scious, on  his  retirement  in  1907,  that  the  days  of  paternal 
autocracy  were  about  over.  The  growing  spirit  of  nation- 
alism was  a  power  to  be  reckoned  with.  British  influences 
and  Western  ideas  "had  helped  to  liberate  new  and  con- 
flicting forces  that  made  new  demands  on  British  states- 
manship." It  was  not  easy  to  appraise  this  movement. 
Thus  far  it  was  a  class  movement,  confined  to  the  aristo- 
cratic group.  One  has  the  feeling  that  contact  with 
Europe  had  brought  a  demand  for  personal  rights,  with- 
out any  conception  of  corresponding  duties.  The  edu- 
cated Egyptian  was  jealous  for  office,  and  sensitive  re- 
garding social  slights.  The  reforms  instituted  had  touched 
many  vested  interests  of  oppression  in  the  former  ruling 
classes.  Political  propaganda  was  voiced  by  a  scurrilous 
press.  And  in  the  background  there  was  ever  the  suspicion 
of  an  ignorant  and  excitable  people  toward  those  of  alien 
race  and  religion. 

IsTeither  of  Cromer's  successors,  Gorst  or  Kitchener,  ap- 
pears to  have  had  the  capacity  to  meet  and  guide  the  sit- 
uation that  was  arising.  The  staff  of  British  officials  were 
no  longer  in  close  and  sympathetic  touch  with  the  people. 
But  no  serious  blunders  were  made  until  1914.  When 
Turkey  entered  the  War,  a  British  protectorate  was  at 
once  proclaimed.  This  meant  to  a  fanatic  population  the 
transfer  of  official  rule  from  a  Mohammedan  to  a  Chris- 
tian power.  JN'othing  was  done  to  reconcile  them  to  the 
new  relationship,  or  to  secure,  as  in  India,  their  free  co- 

'  Sir  Valentine  Chirol,  The  Egi/ptian  Prollem,  1920,  which  I  have 
suhstantially  followed.  See  also  Earl  of  Cromer,  Modern  Egypt, 
1908;  Alfred  Milner,  England  in  Egypt,  1892.  A  less  favorable 
view  of  the  British  occupation,  as  in  Elbert  E.  Farman,  Egypt  and 
her  Betrayal,  1908,  would  not  affect  my  use  of  Egypt  as  an  illus- 
trative case  of  reaction. 


274  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

operation  in  the  War.  Egypt  became  a  British  army  camp. 
The  military  operations  brought  heavy  financial  burdens, 
which  fell  chiefly  on  the  peasants,  who  had  not  hitherto 
been  affected  by  the  political  agitation.  Food  was  pro- 
cured through  forced  sales.  The  conscription  of  workers 
for  the  labor  corps  in  the  Sinai  peninsula  was  badly  man- 
aged and  bitterly  resented.  Wages  and  agricultural  prices 
had  risen  during  the  War,  but  in  many  cases  costs  and 
rents  had  risen  still  higher.  The  average  Egyptian, 
whether  aristocrat,  fellaheen  or  proletarian,  had  come  to 
regard  the  Protectorate  as  equivalent  to  national  slavery. 
Some  at  least  of  the  leaders  had  faith  in  the  high  ideals 
which  Allied  statesmen  had  been  holding  before  the  world. 
Egypt  was  caught  by  "the  magic  of  a  phrase" :  the  right 
of  a  people  to  self-determination. 

Two  days  after  the  Armistice,  a  group  of  prominent 
Egyptians  met  to  demand  complete  independence.  They 
were  denied  the  right  to  be  represented  at  the  Paris  Con- 
ference, in  spit©  of  direct  appeals  to  Lloyd  George,  Clemen- 
ceau,  Orlando  and  Wilson.  Members  of  the  Egyptian  min- 
istry asked  permission  to  proceed  to  England,  to  state  their 
case.  Their  request  was  refused.  The  government  warned 
the  leaders,  and  later  arrested  four  of  the  most  prominent. 
Within  a  few  days  the  whole  E'ile  valley  was  in  revolt. 

With  the  details  of  this  insurrection  movement,  and  its 
suppression,  we  are  not  concerned,  merely  noting  that  it 
involved  all  classes  of  the  population,  even,  for  the  first 
time  in  history,  Mohammedan  women.  ITor  is  it  neces- 
sary to  discuss  the  fitness  of  Egypt  for  self-government. 
Only  the  future  can  test  the  wisdom  of  the  guarded  inde- 
pendence recommended  by  Lord  Milner's  mission.  When 
one  has  stirred  up  a  hornet's  nest,  it  is  sometimes  the  part 
of  wisdom  to  withdraw  from  the  hornets. 

For  the  case  of  a  tropical  dependency,  the  various  stages 
of  Dutch  policy  in  Java  furnish  an  instructive  series  of 
action  and  reaction.    When  the  Dutch  East  India  Com- 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES    275 

pany  began  operations,  in  1602,  the  island  had  been  ruled 
for  centuries  by  Hindu  and  native  conquerors.  The  old 
tribal  organization  and  the  spirit  of  personal  indepen- 
dence has  been  almost  completely  lost.  I^ative  monarchs 
regarded  themselves  as  owners  of  the  land,  from  which 
they  extorted  labor  and  produce,  through  a  highly  cen- 
tralized system.  The  population  was  kept  down  by  fre- 
quent wars.  Only  a  small  proportion  of  the  unusually 
fertile  soil  was  under  cultivation.  Standards  of  living 
were  low,  and  native  needs  easily  satisfied,  outside  of  the 
exactions  of  their  rulers.  The  Company  attached  itself  to 
the  existing  political  organization,  as  a  sort  of  economic 
parasita  Its  one  aim  was  revenue.  This  was  secured 
partly  by  tribute.  Through  the  native  rulers,  the  people 
were  also  forced  to  produce,  for  a  small  return  or  none 
at  all,  articles  which  could  be  sold  with  profit  in  the  l^ether- 
lands.  The  system  proved  a  failure,  from  every  stand- 
point. The  Company  itself  was  an  irresponsible  monopoly, 
badly  administered  and  honeycombed  with  corruption.  It 
tried  to  combine  the  functions  of  trader  and  ruler.  In 
the  earlier  period,  by  procuring  tropical  products  at  low 
cost  and  selling  them  for  high  prices,  large  returns  were 
made  to  the  stockholders.  With  the  fall  of  prices  in 
Europe,  and  the  growth  of  competition  from!  foreign 
smugglers,  profits  turned  to  losses.  Dutch  rule  was  con- 
stantly extended,  in  order  to  develop  further  the  forced  as- 
sessments of  produce.  But  by  1798  the  Company  was 
bankrupt,  and  its  powers  and  debts  were  assumed  by  the 
State.  Commercially,  the  island  remained  undeveloped. 
!N'othing  had  been  done  for  the  native  population,  except 
to  add  to  their  previous  burdens.  The  one  positive  con- 
tribution of  the  Company  was  the  suppression  of  native 
wars. 

The  next  stage  in  Dutch  policy  was  that  of  the  Culture 
System.  The  ]!^etherlands  government  had  taken  the  place 
of  the  former  native  rulers,  as  owner  of  the  land  on  the 


276  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

island.  Confronted  with  a  large  colonial  debt,  and  in  need 
of  funds  at  home,  it  looked  on  its  East  Indian  estate  as  a 
valuable  source  of  income.  To  secure  immediate  returns, 
and  solve  the  vexing  labor  problem  on  tropical  plantations, 
the  plan  of  enforced  cultures  was  adopted.  Instead  of  pay- 
ing to  the  government  a  certain  proportion  of  their  or- 
dinary crop,  which  was  rice,  the  natives  were  to  put  at 
its  disposal  a  part  of  their  land  and  labor-time.  On  this 
land  and  with  this  labor,  for  which  a  small  return  was  to 
be  made,  they  were  to  grow  coffee,  sugar  or  other  products 
which  the  government  could  export.  The  system  broke 
down,  like  its  predecessor.  Forced  labor,  however  cheaply 
secured,  is  always  expensive.  A  government,  even  if  well 
administered,  is  not  competent  to  manage  the  exacting 
operations  of  a  vast  tropical  farm.  The  whole  scheme 
was  inspired  by  a  spirit  of  selfish  exploitation.  And  the 
same  spirit  showed  itself  in  the  administration  of  the 
island.  The  Dutch  officials,  pressed  by  the  home  govern- 
ment for  immediate  revenue,  passed  on  the  pressure  to 
the  native  contractors,  and  these  to  the  village  headmen. 
Each  lined  his  own  pockets  on  the  way.  The  earlier  regu- 
lations for  the  protection  of  the  natives  were  disregarded. 
The  system  became  so  oppressive  that  a  movement  of  popu- 
lation began  from  the  culture  districts.  Some  sections  lost 
a  half  to  two  thirds  of  their  people  through  emigration  to 
other  parts  of  the  island.  Those  who  remained  suffered 
from  famine  and  pestilence,  due  to  the  diminished  food 
supply.  They  were  not  left  enough  land  and  time  to  raise 
food,  or  paid  enough  wages  to  buy  it.  The  famine  of 
1849-50  carried  off  a  third  of  a  million  people  in  central 
Java,  one  of  the  richest  regions  on  earth.  That  any 
financial  benefits  were  received,  in  return  for  the  ruin  of 
a  valuable  empire,  was  due  solely  to  the  high  price  of 
coffee  in  Europe  during  the  period.  Gn  most  of  the  other 
crops  the  government  lost  money.  The  soil  was  impover- 
ished, and  the  culture  products  constantly  deteriorated  in 
quality.    By  1870,  when  light  was  turned  on  the  system, 


THE  TEEATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     277 

proper  book-keeping  showed  that  the  net  gain  had  entirely 
vanished. 

The  Dutch  people  had  been  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  true 
conditions  in  the  Indies.  When  the  facts  became  known, 
about  1860,  an  agitation  for  reform  began  which,  after  ten 
years,  put  the  Liberal  party  in  power  and  brought  a  re- 
versal of  Dutch  colonial  policy.  The  welfare  of  the  na- 
tives was  made  the  prime  consideration,  rather  than  in- 
come for  taxpayers  in  the  ISTetherlands.  The  govern- 
ment renounced  its  right  to  enforced  labor,  and  the  cul- 
ture system,  even  on  a  wage  basis,  was  gradually  abolished. 
In  earlier  periods,  considerable  tracts  had  been  sold  to  for- 
eigners, but  the  further  alienation  of  agricultural  land  was 
now  forbidden.  At  the  same  time,  the  development  of 
large  plantations  was  encouraged  by  a  system  of  leases,  un- 
der strict  regulation.  The  Dutch  officials  studied  the 
native  political  organization,  and  attempted  to  make  the 
land  tax  and  the  local  administration  more  equitable. 
Hopeful  beginnings  were  made  in  primary  and  secondary 
education,  and  public  works  undertaken  on  a  business- 
like basis. 

Many  problems  remain  to  be  solved.  But  the  general 
success  of  the  new  policy  has  been  suggested  by  Profes- 
sor Day :  "Government  officials  hold  planters  in  a  position 
of  extreme  dependence,  and  may  sometimes  abuse  their 
authority.  Yet  this  course  seems  justified  by  the  fact  that 
on  one  side  the  native  has  been  well  protected,  and  on  the 
other  production  has  steadily  and  rapidly  increased.  .  .  . 
Welfare  in  the  European  sense  hardly  exists  in  Java  now. 
The  people  prefer  to  increase  in  number  rather  than  to 
raise  their  standard  of  life  as  individuals.  They  seem, 
however,  in  spite  of  a  great  growth  in  population,  to  have 
at  least  maintained  the  customary  standard.  Articles  de- 
scribing the  private  economy  of  the  Javanese  show  that 
they  have  a  pitifully  small  margin  above  the  mere  neces- 
saries of  life.  Oriental  and  European  standards  are  vastly 
different,  however ;  measured  by  the  Oriental  standard,  or 


278  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

measured  by  their  own  past  history,  the  Javanese  are  now 
comparatively  well-to-do."  ® 

Little  or  no  return  was  made  to  the  home  treasury.  But 
the  colony  has  been  self-supporting,  besides  carrying  the 
cost  of  the  long  war  in  Sumatra.  Differential  duties  in 
favor  of  Dutch  industry  and  shipping  were  abolished  in 
1872.  According  to  our  Minister  from  the  ITetherlands : 
"The  results  of  the  open-door  policy  are  very  satisfactory. 
Far  from  having  stunted  home  enterprise,  the  foreign  com- 
petition has  stimulated  and  strengthened  it."  ^  The  trade 
of  the  Dutch  East  Indian  colonies  trebled  in  23  years, 
reaching  $400,000,000  in  1913.  E'early  a  third  of  this 
was  with  the  mother  country. 

In  the  last  case  which  will  be  cited,  the  treatment  of 
the  natives  in  ISTatal,  we  are  dealing  with  a  virile  and  high- 
spirited  race,  which  had  preserved  its  tribal  organization. 
Widespread  unrest,  culminating  in  the  revolt  of  1906-7, 
led  to  a  series  of  important  investigations.  The  general 
situation  disclosed  was  something  like  this.  According  to 
the  census  of  1904,  the  Bantu-speaking  Zulus  or  Kaffirs 
numbered  904,041,  or  more  than  nine  blacks  to  every 
European.  The  majority  were  still  settled  on  native  re- 
serves, under  their  tribal  chiefs.  Each  kraal  or  village, 
located  on  land  assigned  by  the  chief,  was  surrounded  by 
garden  plots  cultivated  by  the  women,  and  by  communal 
pasture  for  the  cattle  tended  by  the  men.  The  first  effect 
of  British  rule  was  the  elimination  of  tribal  wars.  This 
led  to  a  rapid  increase  in  population,  amounting  to  over 
20  per  cent  in  the  13  years  from  1888  to  1904.  As  agri- 
cultural methods  were  extremely  primitive,  the  exhaustion 
of  the  soil  made  it  necessary  to  move  the  kraal  every  few 
years.  It  was  increasingly  difficult  for  the  reserves  to 
support  the  growing  native  population.  Many  had  settled 
on  Crown  lands  and  European  farms,  either  as  tenants  or 

8  Clive  Day,  The  Dutch  in  Java,  1904,  379.    See  also  Jam,,  British 
Foreign  Office  Handbooks  82,  1920. 

•J.  T.  Cremer,  Pro&s  of  Am.  Econ.  Assoc,  Dec,  1918,  341. 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     279 

as  squatters.  The  former  were  subject  to  higli  rents, 
and  the  latter  to  eviction  at  any  time.  In  some  cases  such 
lands  had  been  purchased  by  individuals  or  groups  of 
natives.  But  on  the  reserves,  no  steps  had  been  taken, 
as  in  Cape  Colony,  to  encourage  the  change  from  com- 
munal to  individual  ownership. 

The  second  great  impact  of  European  civilization  was 
the  demand  for  labor,  which  followed  the  opening  of  the 
Transvaal  mines.  Natives  were  recruited,  for  a  few 
months  at  a  time,  from  all  parts  of  South  Africa,  returning 
to  their  kraals  at  the  end  of  their  contract.  This  employ- 
ment had  come  to  be  carefully  supervised  by  the  govern- 
ment, in  cooperation  with  the  mining  companies.  Its  effect 
was  two-fold.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  a  real  step  in  the 
economic  development  of  the  native  population,  opening  up 
new  wants  and  the  means  of  supplying  them.  In  many 
cases  returning  laborers  used  their  earnings  to  purchase 
cattle,  and  even  ploughs.  Young  men  would  submit  to 
temporary  exile  and  distasteful  labor,  in  order  to  accumu- 
late enough  to  marry.  The  second  effect  of  the  labor  camps 
was  to  break  up  the  old  community  life,  and  the  moral 
obligations  which  it  enforced.  The  young  men  who  had 
spent  six  months  at  Johannesburg  or  Durban,  were  sophis- 
ticated and  independent  of  authority.  Many  of  them  had 
acquired  European  vices.  The  same  loosening  of  author- 
ity tended  to  make  the  Kaffir  women  and  girls  idle  and 
immoral.  The  white  man  was  undermining  the  tribal 
and  family  organization,  with  its  code  of  ethics,  without 
putting  anything  in  its  place. 

Christian  missionaries  had  done  most  efficient  service. 
But  the  native  Christian  found  the  door  closed  to  the 
economic  advance  for  which  he  was  fitted.  Through  fear 
of  political  movements,  the  Natal  government  would  not 
allow  native  churches,  unless  these  were  officially  regis- 
tered and  supervised  by  a  white  pastor.  Outside  of  the 
mission  stations  nothing  had  been  done  in  the  way  of  edu- 
cation or  industrial  training,  for  both  of  which  the  natives 


280  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

showed  a  growing  demand.  Only  about  11,000  children 
were  enrolled.  In  aid  of  these  schools,  the  government 
spent  a  paltry  $37,865  in  1905-6,  out  of  a  direct  con- 
tribution to  the  treasury  by  the  natives  of  $1,532,420. 
ISTo  representation  accompanied  this  taxation.  There  was 
practically  no  opportunity  for  a  Kaffir  to  obtain  the  fran- 
chise, even  if  well  educated  and  a  large  property  holder. 
In  the  entire  colony,  only  two  blacks  were  entitled  to  vote. 
In  the  scathing  words  of  the  E'ative  Affairs  Commission : 
"No  marked  degree  of  individual  progress  in  agriculture, 
architecture,  or  handicrafts,  manners,  or  morals,  can  be 
discovered  as  due  to  direct  Government  action." 

The  E'atal  government  merely  reflected  the  sentiments 
and  prejudices  of  the  ruling  race.  It  attempted,  in  a 
rather  blind  and  mechanical  way,  to  protect  the  Kaffir  as  a 
minor  ward.  At  the  same  time  its  policy,  if  it  can  be 
said  to  have  had  a  policy,  was  to  keep  him  in  a  position 
of  permanent  inferiority.  The  average  white  settler 
looked  on  the  native,  not  as  an  agriculturist,  whose  eco- 
nomic advance  would  add  to  the  wealth  of  the  country,  but 
as  a  common  laborer  for  farm,  kitchen  or  warehouse.  To 
secure  the  black's  uncertain  and  inefficient  service,  he  was 
forced  to  compete  with  the  mines  and  other  industries.  To 
educate  the  Kaffir  would  be,  from  this  point  of  view,  to 
spoil  him  as  a  workman,  and  make  him  dangerously  inde- 
pendent. Compulsory  manual  labor  was  confined  to  the 
draft  of  natives  furnished  by  the  chiefs  for  roads  and 
other  public  works.  But  taxation  was  apparently  intended 
as  an  indirect  incentive  to  industry.  The  natives  were 
compelled  to  pay  $3.50  annually  for  every  hut.  In  1905, 
in  order  to  reach  the  floating  class  of  young  men,  a  head 
tax  of  $5  was  imposed,  for  all  adult  males  who  did  not 
pay  the  hut  tax.  This  heavy  burden  of  taxation,  for 
which  they  received  little  return,  fell  on  a  people  impov- 
erished by  rinder-pest,  locusts,  and  the  neglect  of  cultiva- 
tion. 

The  year  1906  saw  a  series  of  murders  of  white  men, 


THE  TREATMENT  OF  OTHER  PEOPLES     281 

growing  out  of  attempts  to  collect  the  poll  tax.  A  revolt, 
headed  hj  sl  deposed  chief,  was  suppressed  only  by  ener- 
getic measures,  3500  natives  being  killed  and  2000  more 
imprisoned.  The  ISTative  Affairs  Commission  found  that 
"the  chasm  between  the  races  has  been  broadening  for 
years,  and  that  the  attitude  of  the  l^atives  is  now  one  of 
distance  and  distrust."  By  contrast  with  the  kraal-man, 
who  simply  desired  to  be  left  alone,  "to  live  his  own  life 
of  sensual  stagnation,"  the  more  ambitious  Zulus  had  be- 
come aggressively  conscious  of  their  individual  and  racial 
rights.  There  was  a  growing  sense  of  power  and  solidarity 
among  the  Kaffir  tribes  of  South  Africa.  The  cry  of 
Africa  for  the  Africans  had  begun  to  be  sounded.  An 
Ethiopian  church  movement,  revolting  from  white  tutelage, 
drew  in  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  native  Chris- 
tians. I  close  with  another  quotation  from  the  Commis- 
sion's report :  ^^  "Weighed  and  wanting  must  be  the  re- 
luctant verdict  upon  past  efforts  to  reconcile  [the  E'atives] 
to  changed  conditions  of  rule  and  policy,  and  to  convert 
them  into  an  element  of  stability  and  strength.  Let  the 
question  be  fairly  put  and  plainly  answered.  What  is  to 
be  the  destiny  of  this  Colony,  with  its  overwhelming  'Nsl- 
tive  population?  iNToted  for  their  fecundity  and  virility, 
they  will  not  die  out  or  succumb  to  ordinary  adversity, 
and,  as  we  can  neither  assimilate  nor  destroy  them, 
political  forethought  and  common  sense  alike  call  for  a  set- 
tlement of  the  question  on  a  broad,  enlightened,  and  per- 
manent basis." 

"Report  of  Native  Affavrs  Commiss.,  Natal,  1906-7,  19  {Cd.  S889, 
1908).  See  also  Report  of  8.  African  Native  Affairs  Commiss. , 
1903-5  {Cd.  2339,  1905) ;  S.  African  Native  Races  Committee:  The 
Natives  of  8.  Africa,  1901;  The  South  Afrioam,  Natives,  1908. 


xxin. 

THE   COLOE  lilNE. 

Already  we  have  passed  more  than  once  within  the 
color  line.  The  treatment  of  other  peoples  enters  a  pecu- 
liarly delicate  phase,  where  white  and  black  races  exist 
permanently  side  by  side  within  a  highly  developed  civili- 
zation. For  over  half  a  century  the  Southern  states  of 
America  have  been  a  social  laboratory,  where  one  might 
study  racial  action  and  reaction.  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
discuss  the  history  or  psychology  of  race  prejudice.  The 
shortcomings  and  the  progress  of  the  colored  people,  or  of 
the  white  South,  the  present  status  of  the  Negro  problem 
in  its  various  aspects — all  this  in  itself  is  beyond  our 
province.  I  merely  gather  some  of  the  more  striking  evi- 
dence which  shows  how  two  distinct  groups,  forming  part 
of  the  same  society,  constantly  react  on  each  other.  ■'^ 

As  a  Southern  health  officer  says :  "We  face  the  follow- 
ing issues :  First :  One  set  of  people,  the  Caucasian,  with 
a  normal  death-rate  of  less  than  16  per  thousand  per  an- 
num, and  right  alongside  of  them  is  the  negro  race,  with 
a  death-rate  of  25  to  30  per  thousand.  Second:  the  first- 
named  race  furnishing  a  normal,  and  the  second  an  ab- 
normal, percentage  of  criminals.  .  .  .  The  negro  is  with 
you  for  all  time.  He  is  what  you  will  make  him,  and 
it  is  'up  to'  the  white  people  to  prevent  him  from  becoming 
a  criminal,  and  to  guard  him  against  tuberculosis,  syphilis, 

*I  attempt  no  general  bibliography  for  this  chapter,  largely 
because  recent  events  have  made  previous  studies  out  of  date.  In 
addition  to  the  authorities  quoted  in  the  text,  I  mention  only  the 
charming  introduction  to  Southern  sociology:  Mrs.  L.  H.  Ham- 
mond's In  Black  and  White,  1914. 

282 


THE  COLOE  LINE  283 

etc.  If  he  is  tainted  with  disease,  you  will  suffer;  if  he 
develops  criminal  tendencies,  you  will  he  affected."  ^ 

Some  ten  years  ago,  a  certain  large  city  of  the  South 
voted  $100,000  of  bonds  for  a  sewerage  system.  ITo  sew- 
ers were  placed  in  the  Negro  section,  on  the  ground  that 
the  colored  people  would  not  have  sense  enough  to  use 
them.  The  next  year  a  serious  epidemic  of  typhoid  fever 
visited  the  city,  taking  its  rise  in  this  same  Negro  district. 
Additional  sewers  were  then  installed. 

In  other  lines  the  come-back,  if  not  as  rapid,  appears 
to  be  equally  sure.  We  find  it  in  sexual  relations.  Inter- 
marriage of  blacks  and  whites,  which  in  general  neither 
race  desires,  is  forbidden  by  all  the  Southern  states.  Open 
concubinage  has  practically  ceased,  under  pressure  of  pub- 
lic opinion.  But  the  intense  sentiment  against  the  mixing 
of  the  races,  reinforced  by  lower  motives,  has  brought 
it  about  that  a  Negro  girl  cannot  obtain  legal  redress 
from  the  white  man  who  ruins  her,  or  support  for  his  bas- 
tard child.  This  situation  adds  immensely  to  the  strength 
of  the  white  man's  temptation.  He  knows  that  he  need  not 
fear  the  penalties  against  adultery  and  fornication,  which 
the  law  provides  in  the  case  of  white  women.  The  South's 
greatest  danger  to  its  morals  lies  in  this  illicit  admixture 
of  the  races,  this  double  standard  of  sexual  relations, 
which  has  been  brought  about  by  the  outlawing  of  Negro 
women.  "In  view  of  the  vital  connection  between  the 
morals  of  the  two  races,  the  moral  regeneration  of  either 
must  of  necessity  include  both."  ^ 

The  effect  of  this  situation  on  Negro  men  is  more  than 
the  force  of  example,  which  leads  to  further  debauching 
of  colored  women.  They  must  share  the  women  of  their 
own  race  with  their  white  rivals,  while  the  women  of  the 
dominant  race  are  kept  from  them  by  the  triple  wall  of 
law,  public  opinion  and  masculine  sentiment.    A  sense  of 

*  Quoted  by  Wm.  Archer,  Through  Afro-Amerioa,  1910. 
'Archibald  H.  Grimke,  The  Sex  Question  <md  Segregation,  Am. 
N^ro  Academy,  Dec.,  1915» 


284  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

sullen  resentment  leads  some  of  them  to  endeavor  to  climb 
that  wall,  by  the  dark  and  crooked  ways  their  white  in- 
structors have  shown.  Hanging  like  a  pall  over  the  white 
South  is  the  fear  of  such  assaults  on  women  and  girls  by 
brutal  black  men.'* 

Lynching,  the  remedy  attempted  for  this  very  real  dan- 
ger, brings  us  to  another  instructive  case  of  action  and  re- 
action. The  summary  execution  of  desperate  white  men 
is  familiar  enough  under  frontier  conditions,  where  legal 
machinery  is  not  available.  As  a  method  of  dealing  with 
l^egro  criminals,  it  appears  to  have  been  fastened  on  the 
South  by  the  Ku  Klux  Klan.  The  primary  object  of 
lynching,  according  to  its  defenders,  is  to  prevent  by  in- 
timidation the  crime  of  rape.  The  effect  has  been  the 
exact  opposite.  "The  facts  as  known,"  says  Cutler,  "in- 
dicate that  lynching  for  assault  upon  white  women,  instead 
of  having  a  repressive  influence,  has  directly  stimulated  its 
perpetration.  Assaults  on  white  women  have  occurred 
again  and  again  immediately  following  a  lynching  for  such 
crime,  and  they  have  so  occurred  in  the  same  neighbor- 
hood where  the  lynching  took  place.  It  has  been  pub- 
licly stated  that  in  one  instance  a  negro  who  had  witnessed 
a  lynching  for  this  crime  actually  committed  an  assault  on 
his  way  home."  ^  Following  the  Atlanta  race  riot,  which 
caused  extreme  and  widespread  terror  among  the  Negro 
population,  several  assaults  on  white  women  occurred. 
Civilized  nations  have  learned,  by  bitter  experience,  the 
truth  of  this  psychological  law,  that  "severe  punishments, 
especially  if  publicly  executed,  tend  to  increase  crime."  • 
Sir  Sidney  Olivier,  commenting  on  the  complete  absence 
of  assaults  on  white  women  in  Jamaica,  where  the  blacks 
outnumber  the  whites  60  to  1,  attributes  the  situation  in 
the  Southern  states  to  "the  constant  storm  of  suggestion 

*Cf.    Ray    Stannard    Baker,    Following    the    Color   Line,    1908, 
chap.  1. 
"James  E.  Cutler,  Lynch-Law,  1905,  224. 
•  Henry  P.  Fairchild,  Unpcurtisan  Review,  No.  27,  16,  1920. 


THE  COLOR  LINE  285 

to  the  most  imaginative  and  uncontrollable  of  passions  in 
an  excitable  and  imaginative  race."  ^ 

Mob  violence,  the  habit  of  taking  the  law  into  their 
own  hands,  tended  to  grow  by  what  it  fed  on.  It  spread 
to  other  crimes  than  rape.  When  we  examine  the  lynching 
record  in  the  United  States  for  the  30  years  from  1889 
to  1918,^  we  find  that,  of  2,522  Negroes  lynched,  only 
28.4%  were  put  to  death  for  real  or  alleged  assaults  on 
white  women.  Of  the  remainder,  35.8%  were  charged 
with  murder,  9.5%  with  other  crimes  against  the  person, 
8.3%  with  crimes  against  property,  12%  with  miscellane- 
ous crimes,  and  5.6%  were  lynched  for  other  than  criminal 
offenses.  During  this  period,  50  N^egro  women  were 
lynched.  Taking  five  year  periods,  the  proportion  of  'Ne- 
groes lynched  for  assaults  on  white  women  has  steadily  de- 
clined, from  31.8%  in  1889-1893,  to  18.9%  in  1914-1918. 
While  the  total  number  of  lynchings  has  decreased,  the 
character  of  the  mobs  has  deteriorated,  and  the  punish- 
ments inflicted  have  tended  to  increase  in  severity.  In 
1919,  out  of  78  cases,  11  were  burned  to  death,  1  drowned, 
1  cut  to  pieces,  1  beaten  to  death,  and  the  rest  hanged  or 
shot ;  3  of  these  were  burned  after  death.  It  is  a  frequent 
practice  to  torture  the  victim  before  death  comes  to  his  re- 
lief. !N"o  one  can  read  in  detail  the  story  of  a  typical 
lynching,  often  witnessed  by  women  and  children,  with- 
out realizing  its  degrading  influence  on  those  taking  part 
in  it,  the  supplanting  of  reason  by  passion,  the  cheapening 
of  human  life,  the  encouragement  to  anarchy  in  all  civil 
relations.  The  reaction  of  lynching  on  the  dominant  race 
is  seen  in  the  fact  that  702  whites,  11  of  them  women,  were 
lynched  during  the  same  period.  Of  these  425  were  in  the 
South.  One  of  the  most  notable  cases  was  that  of  Leo 
Frank,  in  Georgia,  in  1913.  Accused,  probably  without 
reason,  of  murdering  a  girl  employed  in  his  pencil  factory, 

'  WMte  Capital  and  Coloured  Labour,  1906,  50. 
•  Thirty  Yea/ra  of  Lynching  in  the  U.  8.,  Nat.  Assoc,  for  Advance- 
ment of  Colored  People,  1919. 


286  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

the  strength  of  the  mob  spirit  prevented  a  fair  trial.  Af- 
ter his  sentence  had  been  commuted  to  life  imprisonment 
by  Gov.  Slaton,  25  "selected''  men  broke  into  the  peniten- 
tiary, took  him  in  an  automobile  to  a  spot  near  the  mur- 
dered girl's  home,  and  hung  him.  I^o  action  v^as  taken  by 
the  grand  jury  to  which  the  lynching  was  referred. 

Civil  justice  for  the  Negro  population  has  been  equally 
difficult  to  secure,  in  many  sections.  This  is  particularly 
true  under  the  share-cropping  system,  where  land,  imple- 
ments and  supplies  are  furnished  by  the  landlord,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  year  the  crop  is  divided  on  equal  shares.  In 
1918,  at  Keo,  Lonoke  Co.,  Arkansas,  "a  J^egro  by  the  name 
of  George  Conway,  raised  20  bales  of  cotton,  the  value  of 
which  was  $3,500.  His  landlord  refused  to  furnish  him 
shoes  or  clothing,  so  that  he  was  forced  to  work  his  crop 
barefooted  and  often  hungry.  The  worker's  family  con- 
sisted of  himself,  a  wife,  and  two  children.  Although  the 
value  of  the  goods  he  ^took  up'  did  not  amount  to  more  than 
$300,  when  he  asked  for  an  itemized  statement  at  the  end 
of  the  year  he  was  told  his  purchases  amounted  to  $40 
more  than  the  value  of  his  crop.  When  he  demanded  a 
settlement  and  an  itemized  statement  his  landlord  beat 
him  severely  and  threatened  to  kill  him  if  he  persisted  in 
his  demand.  For  the  $40,  balance  due,  the  landlord  seized 
the  ISTegro's  household  goods  and  drove  him  off  the  plan- 
tation, penniless."  ® 

The  effect  of  such  conditions  on  the  white  South  may  be 
traced  in  at  least  three  directions.  In  the  first  place,  the 
exploitation  of  the  I^egro  means  the  moral  degradation  of 
the  white.  As  Murphy  puts  it,  "The  chief  sufferer  is  not 
the  weaker  group,  but  the  group  thus  afforded  a  rich  sup- 
port for  its  coarser  elements  and  its  lower  tendencies — ele- 
ments and  tendencies  which  a  normal  and  homogeneous 
life  might  more  effectively  dislodge  or  modify.  Low  stand- 
ards in  the  services  rendered  by  the  negro  to  the  com- 
munity are  not  so  serious  as  the  low  standards  of  service 

•Walter  F.  White,  Survey,  233,  Dec.  13,  1919. 


THE  COLOE  LINE  287 

he  exacts ;  low  grades  of  goods,  cheap,  adulterated  qualities 
of  food,  poor  houses  at  high  rents,  petty  loans  at  extortion- 
ate interest,  top-heavy  mortgages  that  embitter  the  victim 
and  harden  the  heart  of  the  lender; — a  constituency, 
which,  however  innocently,  will  float  the  less  efficient  or 
less  creditable  element  thrown  off  from  the  commercial  or 
professional  life  of  the  stronger  group ;  the  declining  mer- 
chant annexing  a  negro  trade,  the  discredited  lawyer  an- 
nexing 'negro  business/  "  ^® 

A  second  effect  has  been  the  increase  of  racial  ten- 
sion. !Negro  race  consciousness,  which  had  been  slowly 
developing  in  the  better  educated  and  more  prosperous 
groups,  was  spread  and  matured  through  participation  in 
the  War.  Colored  people  came  to  insist  more  generally  on 
their  legal  rights.  As  Professor  Morse  has  said,  "There 
is  a  new  !N'egro  in  the  South,  the  product  of  five  years  of 
human  struggle  which  are  easily  the  equivalent  of  any  hun- 
dred earlier  years  of  human  history.  We  shall  prove  the 
quality  of  our  education  by  our  willingness  and  ability  to 
adjust  ourselves  to  him."  ^^  The  process  of  readjustment 
has  not  been  easy  for  either  side.  The  new  self-assertion 
of  the  ITegro  led  to  renewed  attempts  at  intimidation  and 
repression,  the  Ku  Klux  being  revived  in  many  sec- 
tions. As  a  consequence,  [N'egroes  armed  themselves  in 
self-defense,  and  armed  clashes  became  more  frequent. 
Outside  of  Arkansas,  where  the  whites  greatly  outnumber 
the  blacks,  recent  race  riots  have  been  battles,  not  mas- 
sacres. The  old  spectre  of  an  armed  insurrection  of  the 
Negroes  has  come  back  to  haunt  the  white  South. ^^  Not 
only  have  many  colored  folk  been  disillusioned  by  the  ex- 
periences of  the  War  and  after,  but  a  radical  left  wing 
has  developed,  under  the  leadership  of  the  Messenger. 

"  Edgar  Gardner  Murphy,  Basis  of  Ascendency,  1910,  124  ^. 

"  Sewanee  Review,  Apr.,  1920. 

"Herbert  J.  Seligman,  The  Negro  Faces  America,  1920,  56,  69. 
In  The  Voice  of  the  Negro,  1920,  Robert  T.  Kerlin  gives  excerpts 
from  the  Negro  press  for  the  four  months  following  the  Washing- 
ton riot.    The  book  is  a  notable  attempt  to  study  racial  reactions. 


288  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

Our  handling  of  the  race  problem  is  producing  a  reaction 
like  that  from  industrial  exploitation,  with  which  in  many 
parts  of  the  South  it  is  closely  related. 

The  third  form  of  reaction,  though  second  in  point  of 
time,  was  the  migration  of  [Megroes  from  the  South.  Defi- 
nite movements  took  place  to  Kansas  in  1879,  and  to  Ar- 
kansas and  Texas  in  1888-9.  These  were  followed  by  a 
slow  shifting  of  I^egroes  from  the  Black  Belt  to  newer 
sections  of  the  South,  and  to  Northern  towns  and  cities. 
In  50  years  this  northward  movement  transferred  about 
4  per  cent  of  the  entire  Negro  population.  The  migration 
of  1916-17  was  unprecedented  in  volume.  Over  400,000 
Negroes,  from  all  parts  of  the  Southern  states,  moved 
north.  As  in  the  earlier  movements,  the  fundamental 
cause  was  economic.  The  Negroes  left  their  old  home  to 
better  their  condition,  like  the  emigrants  from  Europe.  A 
serious  agricultural  depression  in  the  South,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  European  war,  coincided  with  the  stopping  of 
European  immigration  to  the  North  and  the  unprece- 
dented demand  for  labor.  All  students  of  the  Migration, 
however,  recognize  that  a  strongly  contributing  factor  was 
the  fear,  resentment  and  restlessness  provoked  by  the  treat- 
ment Negroes  had  been  receiving  in  the  South.  The  exo- 
dus from  South  Carolina,  for  example,  was  started  by  the 
lynching  of  a  wealthy  Negro,  Anthony  Crawford.  The 
following  report  comes  from  Mississippi :  "The  police  of 
most  of  the  cities  are  rough  and  indiscriminate  in  their 
treatment  of  negroes.  At  the  depot  during  the  sununer, 
on  several  occasions,  negro  porters  were  severely  beaten 
by  policemen  for  trivial  reasons.  This,  it  was  said,  started 
a  stream  of  young  men  that  cleaned  the  town  of  porters." 
When  a  labor  agent  could  offer  not  only  big  wages,  but 
good  schools,  decent  living  conditions,  fair  treatment,  and 
freedom  from  intimidation  and  repression,  his  appeal 
found  ready  listeners.  Once  started,  the  movement  gath- 
ered its  own  momentum.    Whole  communities  caught  the 


THE  COLOR  LINE  289 

"northern  fever."    Individuals  who  had  gone  north,  wrote 
back  urging  their  friends  to  join  them. 

The  Migration  brought  a  race  problem  to  the  North, 
largely  economic  in  character,  which  is  too  complex  to  dis- 
cuss here.  Our  study  in  this  chapter  is  confined  to  racial 
action  and  reaction  in  the  South.  The  sudden  draining 
from  that  section  of  a  considerable  portion  of  its  Negro 
labor  was  extremely  serious.  "Homes  found  themselves 
without  servants,  factories  could  not  operate  because  of 
the  lack  of  labor,  farmers  were  unable  to  secure  laborers 
to  harvest  their  crops."  The  Macon  Telegraph,  which  a 
few  months  before  had  advocated  sending  100,000  worth- 
less Negroes  to  Mexico,  said  of  Negro  labor :  "If  we  lose 
it,  we  go  bankrupt."  At  first,  drastic  measures  were  taken 
to  check  the  migration.  Solicitation  by  labor  agents  was 
prohibited.  Individual  Negroes  were  arrested.  Crowds 
waiting  for  trains  were  roughly  handled  by  the  police. 
Stories  were  circulated  as  to  the  cold  weather  in  the  North, 
and  the  spread  of  sickness  among  the  migrants.  When 
it  was  found  that  such  a  policy  only  served  to  stimulate 
the  movement.  Southern  leaders,  of  all  shades  of  opinion, 
began  to  recognize  the  common  interest  of  the  races,  and 
take  steps  to  remedy  the  causes  of  the  migration.  It  is 
easy  to  exaggerate  the  extent  of  this  change,  but  some  of 
the  measures  attempted  are  very  suggestive.  Wages  were 
raised  to  a  point  that  would  hold  Negro  labor  in  the  South. 
Plantation  work  in  many  places  was  put  on  a  fairer  basis. 
Improvements  were  made  in  the  condition  of  Negro  dis- 
tricts in  the  cities.  Newspapers,  often  by  a  bold  about- 
face,  deprecated  lynchings  and  suppressed  details  of  mob 
violence.  Petty  tyranny  by  police  and  court  ofiicials  was 
discountenanced.  Joint  meetings  of  white  and  colored 
leaders  were  held  for  a  frank  discussion  of  grievances.-^' 

"Emmett  J.  Scott,  Negro  Migration  during  the  War,  1920; 
Negro  Migration  in  1916-17,  U.  S.  Dep't  Labor,  1919.  The  move- 
ment for  inter-racial  committees  has  spread  imtil  it  includes  over 
800  counties  in  the  South. 


290  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

In  the  comprehensive  study  of  !N"egro  Education  made 
by  the  Government  in  1916,^*  it  was  found  that  the 
Southern  states  were  spending  $2.89  for  each  [N'egro  child 
as  compared  with  $10.32  for  each  white  child.     The  at- 
tendance in  both  public  and  private  schools  included  only 
58.1  per  cent  of  the  children  from  6  to  14  years  of  age. 
In  practically  all  of  the  states  the  average  school  term  was 
less  than  five  months.     The  wretched  condition  of  the 
school  buildings  was  matched  by  the  lack  of  supervision, 
and  the  failure  to  adapt  the  course  to  community  needs. 
Teachers  were  poorly  paid.     Their  average  preparation 
represented  less  than  eighth  grade  work  in  school.     Pro- 
visions for  secondary  education  were  equally  deficient. 
Only  24,189  pupils  were  enrolled,  half  of  them  in  private 
schools.     These  included  students  who  were  being  trained 
as  elementary  school  teachers.     In  colleges,  1,643  were 
studying  college  subjects,   and   994   taking  professional 
courses.    Outside  of  Hampton  and  Tuskegee,  adequate  fa- 
cilities for  industrial  and  agricultural  training  were  found 
in  only  16  schools,  largely  maintained  by  Federal  funds. 
The  moral  danger  and  economic  loss  in  an  undisciplined 
and  unskilled  IsTegro  population  of  9  million  (38%  of  the 
total)  is  beginning  to  dawn  on  the  white  South.    As  the 
Southern  University  Race  Commission  expressed  it :  "The 
inadequate  provision  for  the  education  of  the  Negro  is 
more  than  an  injustice  to  him ;  it  is  an  injury  to  the  white 
man.     The  South  cannot  realize  its  destiny  if  one-third 
of  its  population  is  undeveloped  and  inefficient.    For  our 
common  welfare  we  must  strive  to  cure  disease  wherever 
we  find  it,  strengthen  whatever  is  weak,  and  develop  all 
that  is  undeveloped.     The  initial  steps  for  increasing  the 
efficiency  and  usefulness  of  the  E"egro  race  must  necessarily 
be  taken  in  the  schoolroom.    There  can  be  no  denying  that 
more  and  better  schools  with  better  trained  and  better 
paid  teachers,  more  adequate  supervision,  and  longer  terms 
are  needed  for  the  blacks  as  well  as  the  whites.  .  .  .  Our 
"Bur.  of  Education,  Bull.  38,  1916. 


THE  COLOR  LINE  291 

appeal  is  for  a  larger  share  for  the  Negro  on  the  ground 
of  the  common  welfare  and  common  justice.  He  is  the 
weakest  link  in  our  civilization,  and  our  welfare  is  indis- 
solubly  bound  up  with  his."  ^^ 

Agriculture  is  still  the  main  industry  of  the  Southern 
states.  Much  land  remains  to  be  reclaimed,  and  only  42 
per  cent  of  the  area  in  farms  is  improved.  Of  nearly  a 
million  Negro  farmers,  about  a  quarter  own  their  own 
farms,  the  balance  being  cash  or  share  tenants,  or  farm 
laborers.  Since  these  Negroes  make  up  two-fifths  of  all 
persons  engaged  in  agriculture,  it  is  evident  that  the  eco- 
nomic wealth  of  the  South  depends  very  largely  on  their 
training  and  general  intelligence.  By  the  use  of  machin- 
ery and  better  farming  methods,  it  would  be  possible  for 
them,  as  Work  says,  to  double  not  only  the  acreage  under 
cultivation  but  the  yield  per  acre,  growing  two  bales  of 
cotton  instead  of  one,  50  bushels  of  corn  where  17  are  now 
grown,  and  150  bushels  of  sweet  potatoes  in  place  of  88.^® 

Other  economic  aspects  of  the  situation  are  coming  to 
the  front,  for  example  the  question  of  public  health. 
Southern  labor  shortage  has  been  likened  to  "a  water  fam- 
ine in  a  community  which  permits  big  holes  in  its  reser- 
voir." According  to  the  1910  census,  out  of  every  100 
Negro  males  born  alive,  22  died  within  the  first  year,  as 
compared  with  12.3  for  the  whites.  At  birth,  where  a 
white  boy's  expectation  of  life  was  50  years,  a  Negro  boy's 
was  34  years.  Given  a  Negro  population  of  9  million,  the 
size  of  this  leak  in  the  South's  productive  labor  force  may 
be  readily  calculated.^'' 

The  Negro  problem  may  be  viewed  from  the  standpoint 

"  Open  Letter  to  College  Men  of  the  South,  Sept.  1,  1916.  Notable 
progress  is  being  made  along  these  lines  in  every  Southern  state, 
and  school  statistics  gathered  today  would  make  a  much  more 
favorable  showing. 

"Monroe  N.  Work,  Tuskegee,  The  South's  Labor  Problem,  South 
Atlantic  Quarterly,  Jan.,  1920. 

"  Cooperative  health  campaigns  are  being  carried  on  with  marked 
results  in  a  number  of  states,  notably  Virginia,  Maryland,  North 
Carolina  and  Texas. 


292  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

of  the  storekeeper  or  manufacturer  who  has  goods  to  mar- 
ket. Commenting  on  the  move  for  racial  cooperation  by 
the  Pine  Bluff  (Ark.)  Chamber  of  Commerce,  the  Manitr 
fadurers  Record,  one  of  the  most  influential  publications 
in  the  South,  said :  "When  you  put  before  the  Negro  the 
hope  of  acquiring  the  conveniences  of  modem  life,  you 
touch  his  nerve  of  industry  and  put  a  power  behind  his 
hoe  that  never  was  there  before.  The  prosperity  of  the 
South  is  wrapped  up  in  the  prosperity  of  the  Negro.  Not 
by  millions,  but  by  billions,  will  the  wealth  of  the  South 
be  increased  when  the  Negro  demands,  not  a  hut,  but  a 
house ;  not  a  cot,  but  a  bed ;  not  rags,  but  store  clothes.  .  .  . 
The  shiftlessness  of  the  Negro  has  cost  the  South  hundreds 
of  millions  of  dollars." 

The  refusal  of  Southern  labor  unions  to  admit  Negroes 
has  been  due  partly  to  race  prejudice,  partly  to  the  fear 
of  competition  from  those  with  a  lower  standard  of  living, 
who  were  willing  to  work  for  less.  The  latter  factor  is 
rapidly  being  eliminated.  The  Migration  to  the  North 
gave  to  Negro  labor  a  new  economic  value,  and  the  chance 
to  make  good  in  many  trades.  In  some  places,  circum- 
stances are  already  compelling  white  labor  to  recognize  the 
law  of  common  interest.  At  Bogalusa,  La.,  are  located  the 
saw,  pulp  and  paper  mills  of  the  Great  Southern  Lumber 
Co.,  probably  the  largest  lumber  producers  in  the  United 
States.  The  company  has  strenuously  opposed  the  organ- 
izing of  its  workmen.  Beginning  about  three  years  ago, 
the  white  workers  succeeded  in  forming  unions.  The  com- 
pany then  began  the  systematic  discharge  of  white  union 
men,  putting  non-union  Negroes  in  their  places.  This 
forced  the  hand  of  Labor,  and  a  campaign  was  begun  to 
unionize  the  Negroes  in  the  company's  employ.  On  Nov. 
22,  1919,  three  white  union  men,  one  of  them  district 
president  of  the  American  Federation  of  Labor,  were  shot 
by  the  company's  henchmen,  and  a  number  of  others 
wounded,  for  protecting  a  Negro  organizer.  ^^ 
»  SeUgman,  op.  dt,  196  ff,  311  ff. 


THE  COLOE  LINE  293 

I  have  given  these  examples  with  only  explanatory  com- 
ment, leaving  the  reader  to  draw  his  own  conclusions  as 
to  the  'Negro  problem  and  its  solution.  The  facts  bear 
witness  to  a  general  social  law,  whose  application  is  far 
wider  than  the  color  line.  Wherever  two  "races"  are  in 
intimate  contact,  they  have  common  moral  and  economic 
interests,  which  cannot  be  ignored  without  serious  con- 
sequences. If  the  two  differ  in  culture,  the  lower  must  be 
lifted  to  the  level  of  the  higher,  or  the  higher  will  inevit- 
ably deteriorate.  Attempts  at  oppression  or  exploitation, 
whether  perpetrated  on  the  l^egro  in  America,  the  Pole  in 
Silesia,  the  Jew  in  Kussia,  or  the  Slav  in  Hungary,  bring 
dangerous  and  costly  reactions,  because  they  violate  a  law 
of  the  Universe.  In  the  words  of  a  great  teacher:  "We 
are  members  one  of  another.  No  man  liveth  unto  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  unto  himself." 


XXIV. 

THE  GEOWTH  OF  COMMOIS^  INTEEEST. 

The  weakness  of  the  competition  theory  of  national 
relations  when  examined  from  the  economic  standpoint, 
and  the  studies  we  have  made  of  racial  action  and  reaction 
leave  the  field  in  possession  of  Jesus'  principle  of  common 
interest,  as  grounded  in  a  righteous  and  altruistic  Uni- 
verse. The  story  of  the  human  race  is  the  record  of  in- 
complete adjustment.  History's  awful  tragedies,  like  so 
much  in  the  unfinished  Creation,  must  be  laid  at  the  door 
of  man's  failure  to  understand  the  Universe,  to  comply 
with  its  conditions  and  cooperate  with  its  moral  forces. 

It  remains  for  us  to  consider  the  foundations  already 
laid  for  a  better  adjustment  and  a  more  successful  world 
order.  Circumstances  are  forcing  the  nations  to  recognize 
the  principle  of  common  interest.  Few  people  realize  how 
far  the  unification  of  the  world  has  gone.  The  rapid 
growth  of  communication  during  the  19th  century  com- 
pelled countries  to  give  up  their  isolation,  and  in  many  di- 
rections their  right  of  independent  action.  With  the  pas- 
sage of  men  and  goods  across  national  boundaries,  count- 
less joint  interests  were  formed.  The  world  has  been 
bound  together  by  a  network  of  associations,  of  which  only 
the  more  important  can  be  noted  here.^ 

Health  has  come  to  be  an  international  interest.  Even 
a  rigid  quarantine  has  not  been  sufficient  to  make  microbes 
and  their  carriers  respect  national  frontiers.     Reference 

*See  L.  S.  Woolf,  International  Government,  1916;  Francis  B. 
Sayre,  Experiments  in  Internat.  Administration,  1919;  Paul  S. 
Eeinsch,  Public  Internat,  Unions,  1911. 

294 


THE  GROWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST      295 

was  made  in  an  earlier  chapter  to  the  problem  of  yellow 
fever.  For  many  years  New  Orleans  and  the  Mississippi 
Valley  were  ravaged  by  this  disease,  brought  by  vessels 
from  foreign  ports.  The  sanitary  conquest  of  Havana 
and  Panama  called  attention  to  the  seed-beds  of  infection 
in  Central  America.  In  1919,  Nicaragua,  Salvador,  Gua- 
temala and  Honduras  united  for  the  elimination  of  yellow 
fever,  which  only  international  cooperation  could  have 
accomplished. 

During  the  last  hundred  years,  cholera,  like  its  prede- 
cessor bubonic  plague,  has  been  spreading  to  Europe  from 
southern  Asia.  Each  great  epidemic  was  followed  by  an 
International  Conference,  which  attempted  to  devise  pro- 
tective measures.  In  1892,  an  agreement  was  secured  by 
which  each  nation  was  obliged  to  give  notification  of  the 
outbreak  of  cholera,  and  to  provide  facilities  for  the  hand- 
ling of  actual  or  suspected  cases.  International  sanitary 
councils  have  been  established  for  Turkey,  Egypt,  Persia 
and  Morocco.  These  are  intended  to  combat  the  spread  of 
disease  through  the  annual  Mohamimedan  pilgrimage. 

In  recent  years  two  new  epidemics,  influenza  and  infan- 
tile paralysis,  have  become  a  world  problem.  Dr.  Simon 
Flexner  locates  the  endemic  home  of  infantile  paralysis 
in  northwestern  Europe,  and  that  of  influenza  in  the  bor- 
der region  between  Russia  and  Turkestan.  The  epidemic 
waves  radiate  from  these  foci.  In  view  of  the  difficulty 
of  combating  these  diseases  when  they  have  spread  over 
wide  areas,  he  proposes  a  concerted  attack  upon  them  in 
the  original  centers  of  infection.  The  object  would  be  to 
destroy  the  natural  seed-beds,  as  in  the  case  of  yellow 
fever.  ^ 

The  health  of  other  countries  has  an  economic  phase. 
That  nearly  100  per  cent  of  the  workers  on  coffee  planta- 
tions in  Brazil  and  tea  estates  in  India  and  Ceylon  are  in- 
fected with  hookworm,  may  seem  a  fact  of  sympathetic  but 
remote  interest.    Medical  treatment  of  the  disease  makes  a 

^J.  of  Am.  Med.  Assoc,  73,  949,  Sept.  27,  1919. 


296  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

difference  of  from  25  to  50  per  cent  in  tlie  efficiency  of 
labor.  A  group  of  laborers  in  Costa  Kica,  for  example, 
who  before  cultivated  563  acres  of  coffee,  were  able  to  cul- 
tivate 750  acres.  The  control  of  hookworm  therefore  af- 
fects the  cost  of  each  cup  of  tea  or  coffee  that  is  used  the 
world  over.  The  same  holds  true  of  every  line  of  pro- 
duction and  every  aspect  of  public  health.  One  of  the 
great  obstacles  to  the  economic  reconstruction  of  Central 
Europe  has  been  the  spread  of  typhus  and  other  diseases 
in  the  wake  of  war.  As  Folks  said,  in  regard  to  the  general 
public  health  situation:  "In  1914  the  millennium  was 
on  its  way.  It  was  not  at  the  door,  but  it  was  definitely 
predictable.     The  war  has  postponed  it  indefinitely."  * 

Among  the  first  steps  taken  by  the  League  of  Nations 
was  the  opening  of  an  International  Health  Office  at 
Geneva,  intended  to  take  over  the  Office  of  Public  Health 
established  at  Paris  in  1907.  The  International  Health 
Board  of  the  Eockefeller  Foundation  cooperated  in  1919 
with  17  nations  or  colonies.  In  the  summer  of  that  year, 
a  League  of  Ked  Cross  Societies  was  formed,  to  correlate 
the  public  health  work  of  26  nations.  Agencies  of  destruc- 
tion may  be  developed  by  each  country  in  secret.  Re- 
medial measures  are  open,  and  free  for  all  the  world. 

Medical,  scientific  and  social  research  is  a  common  en- 
terprise of  the  race,  for  which  national  boundaries  have 
no  meaning.  International  groups  of  specialists  or  re- 
formers are  constantly  holding  meetings  to  discuss  specific 
problems.  The  year  before  the  War  saw  no  less  than  174 
international  congresses.  The  annual  of  La  Vie  Inter- 
nationale listed  371  associations  of  this  character.  "Prac- 
tically every  profession,  from  engineers  and  architects  to 
nurses  and  commercial  travellers,  is  represented.  Industry 
and  commerce,  from  Chambers  of  Commerce  to  bird- 
fanciers  and  cinematograph  film  makers;  labor  in  some 
forty  separate  International  Federations;  Science,  from 
the  powerful  Electrotechnical  Commission  to  the  Intema- 

•  Homer  Folks,  The  Htman  Cost  of  War,  1920,  277. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  COMMOlSr  INTEEEST      297 

tional  Society  for  Psychical  Research;  Medicine,  with  as 
many  as  thirty-nine  distinct  associations ;  Art,  Literature, 
Learning,  and  Religion  have  all  entered  the  field  of  inter- 
national organisation.  Finally,  there  are  innumerable 
associations  of  persons  working  for  some  special  social 
object,  like  Women's  Suffrage,  Temperance,  or  the  sup- 
pression of  prostitution,  and  who  are  seeking  to  attain  that 
object  by  international  action.  In  this  division  Morals, 
Education,  and  Feminism  provide  the  largest  numbers,  but 
the  Catholicism  of  internationalism  is  well  shown  by  the 
existence  of  an  ^International  Association  for  the  Suppres- 
sion of  Useless  Noises'  and  an  ^International  Association 
for  the  Rational  Destruction  of  Rats.'  "  * 

Religion  is  a  binding  force  between  nations.  Even  with 
the  unfortunate  doctrinal  divisions  of  Christendom  and 
the  alienation  of  certain  classes,  the  Western  nations  pos- 
sess a  common  heritage  of  ideas  and  ideals.  They  read  the 
same  Bible  and  call  on  the  same  Savior.  Every  important 
body  of  churches  is  represented  in  more  than  one  country. 
Though  nationalism  affected  the  churches  during  the  War, 
as  it  did  every  form  of  association,  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity is  an  influence  working  strongly  for  sympathy  and 
cooperation.  In  organized  movements  for  World  Peace 
there  are  three  principal  elements :  Feminism,  Labor  and 
the  Christian  Church.  And  the  greatest  of  these  is  the 
Church. 

McDougall,  in  his  Social  Psychology,  calls  attention  to 
the  way  Art  tends  to  soften  and  socialize  national  relations. 
ITot  only  is  there  a  constant  interchange  of  artists,  and  imi- 
tation of  foreign  artistic  models,  running  all  the  way  from 
architecture  to  fashion  in  dress.  A  common  admiration 
binds  the  Western  world  together.  The  great  works  iif 
literature,  painting  or  music  belong  to  the  race,  rather  than 
to  the  nation  which  produced  them.  The  tourist,  in  his 
pilgrimages  to  famous  shrines,  is  a  true  cosmopolitan. 

Even  Sport  has  become  international.    Since  1844,  when 

*Woolf,  op,  cit,  106. 


298  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

George  Seward,  an  American  professional  runner,  visited 
England,  such  competition  has  become  increasingly  fre- 
quent between  English-speaking  peoples.  During  the  past 
summer,  America  welcomed  French  tennis  players,  a 
Erench  pugilist,  and  a  Japanese  base-ball  team.  The 
Olympic  Games  were  revived  at  Athens  in  1916,  and  are 
held  every  four  years  in  a  different  country.  The  seventh 
of  these  contests  occurred  at  Antwerp  in  1920,  national 
teams  winning  points  as  follows :  United  States  212,  Fin- 
land 105,  Sweden  95,  Britain  92,  France  35,  Italy  28, 
South  Africa  24,  Canada  10,  JSTorway  10,  Denmark  9, 
Esthonia  8,  'New  Zealand  5,  Belgium  5,  Australia  5,  Hol- 
land 2,  Czecho-Slovakia  3,  Luxemburg  1. 

The  modem  development  of  Trade  and  Credit  has  made 
the  nations  of  the  world  mutually  dependent.  They  have 
shared,  as  a  common  trust,  the  remarkable  technical  ad- 
vances which  have  made  possible  the  cheapening  of  produc- 
tion and  transportation,  the  diversifying  of  consumption, 
and  the  expansion  of  commerce.  Man,  as  E.  B.  Andrews 
said,  is  a  particularist  in  production  and  a  universalist  in 
consumption.  The  mineral  resources  of  the  world  are 
widely  distributed.  Variations  in  climate  and  natural 
products  are  paralleled  by  differences  in  aptitude  and 
skill.  The  needs  of  the  nations  have  come  to  be  reci- 
procal.^ 

Each  country  therefore  looks  to  other  countries  for  the 
supply  of  needed  goods  and  the  marketing  of  its  own  sur- 
plus. Economic  conditions  abroad  affect  its  own  ability  to 
buy  and  sell.  Bad  weather  in  the  cotton  states  of  America 
raises  the  price  of  cotton  on  the  Liverpool  market,  and 
reduces  the  number  of  hands  employed  in  English  textile 
mills.  Good  crops  in  the  Argentine  mean  good  business 
for  American  makers  of  machinery.  Such  fluctuations  in 
trade  conditions  are  registered  throughout  the  world  in 
the  daily  quotations  on  produce,  stocks  and  monetary  ex- 

•Elisha  M.  Friedman,  Internat,  Commerce  cmd  Reoomtruction, 
1920,  86. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST      299 

change.  Even  in  times  of  peace,  cyclic  fluctuations  occur 
at  frequent  intervals.  In  a  period  of  general  prosperity, 
business  optimism  and  the  expansion  of  industry  and  credit 
spread  from  nation  to  nation;  prices  and  wages  rise  the 
world  over.  There  ensues  a  period  of  business  depression, 
when  bankers  throughout  the  world  curtail  their  credits, 
factories  close  down,  and  millions  of  men  and  women  are 
thrown  out  of  work.  If,  for  rhetorical  purposes.  Society 
is  likened  to  a  living  organism,  the  international  banking 
system  is  the  upper  brain,  the  mind  whose  confidence  or 
caution  alters  the  circulation  of  blood  to  every  cell. 

The  World  War  gave  abundant  illustration  of  this  de- 
pendence of  one  nation  on  another.  Americans  have  a 
realizing  sense  of  the  way  events  in  a  different  hemisphere 
alter  their  cost  of  living  and  means  of  employment.  The 
dislocation  aifected  the  entire  world.  Goods  formerly  pur- 
chased from  the  Central  Powers  must  be  obtained  else- 
where. Non-essential  production  was  curtailed  by  the 
Allies,  and  imports  increased  at  the  expense  of  the  cus- 
tomary exports.  Trade  routes  were  shortened  and  re- 
directed. Countries  formerly  dependent  on  Europe  for 
their  manufactures  were  compelled  to  seek  new  sources  of 
supply  or  develop  substitute  industries.  While  the  AUied 
and  neutral  nations  suffered  inconvenience  and  hardship, 
the  Central  Powers  found  economic  isolation  fatal.  The 
blockade,  which  erected  dams  across  the  ordinary  channels 
of  foreign  trade,  killed  more  people  through  starvation 
and  lowered  disease  resistance  than  lost  their  lives  in 
battle. 

At  the  close  of  the  War,  the  Allies  faced  the  problem 
of  an  economically  prostrate  Germany.  To  degrade  her 
permanently  from  a  trading  to  an  agricultural  nation,  with 
the  loss  of  a  third  of  her  population,  might  satisfy  the 
demands  of  retributive  justice.  But  such  a  Germany  could 
not  pay  her  bill  for  damages.  And  she  would  cease  to  be 
a  heavy  buyer  of  goods  from  Allied  countries.  No  nation 
can  prosper  unless  its  trade  rivals  are  prosperous,  because! 


300  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

its  rivals  are  customers  as  well  as  competitors.  Threats 
of  a  trade  boycott  died  down  before  tbe  fact  that  in  1913 
the  four  Central  Powers  bought  from  Great  Britain  $400,- 
000,000  worth  of  merchandise,  from  France  $150,000,000, 
and  from  the  United  States  $3Y5,000,000.«  The  back- 
ground of  the  Disarmament  Conference,  which  is  in  session 
as  I  write,  is  an  economic  prostration  so  complete  and  so 
universal  as  to  compel  the  attention  of  the  most  chauvin- 
istic diplomat. 

Tariff  wars  have  proved  costly  experiments.  In  the 
early  90's,  France  raised  her  rates  on  Swiss  goods  approxi- 
mately 40  per  cent,  and  Switzerland  retaliated.  The  con- 
flict lasted  for  two  years  and  a  half.  "France's  losses  in 
this  trade  war  were  heavy.  The  diversion  of  Swiss  com- 
merce to  other  countries  lost  to  her  millions  of  francs  in 
railway  receipts,  ocean  freights,  and  commissions.  Aus- 
tria, Italy,  and  the  United  States  gained  at  her  expense  in 
the  sugar  trade,  Spain  in  the  wine  trade,  Italy  in  the  silk 
trade,  Germany  and  Belgium  in  metal  goods,  and  the 
United  States  in  leather.  Germany  received  half  of  the 
trade  lost  by  France  in  ready-made  clothing  and  one-third 
of  that  lost  in  woolen  goods.  Not  until  seven  years  after 
the  close  of  the  trade  war  did  French  exports  to  Switzer- 
land again  equal  the  exports  of  the  normal  years  before 
the  trade  war."  "^ 

Emigration  is  another  phase  of  the  same  world  prob- 
lem. To  equalize  the  pressure  of  population,  "men  must 
move  or  goods  must  flow."  The  economic  development  of 
the  Far  East,  for  example,  is  likely  to  cause  a  situation 
of  increasing  international  strain.  "If  the  yellow  race," 
as  Friedman  says,  "is  to  remain  out  of  the  white  man's 
lands — and  biologically  it  appears  desirable  to  prevent 

•Friedman,  op.  cit.,  109. 

'Wm.  S.  Culbertson,  Commercial  Policy  in  War  Tim^  cmd  After, 
1919,  264.  The  present  tendency  appears  to  be  to  adopt  bargain- 
ing tariflfs,  which,  while  preventing  discrimination  and  dumping 
and  guarding  key-industries,  will  secure  concession  from  other 
countries  and  foster  rather  tiian  hinder  the  freedom  of  trade. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEEEST      301 

fusion  and  to  preserve  the  distinctive  characters  of  each 
— the  flow  of  raw  materials  must  be  unrestricted  and  the 
movement  of  finished  goods  not  too  greatly  obstructed."  * 
The  militant  alternative  is  not  pleasant  to  contemplate. 

In  the  interests  of  communication  and  trade,  the  nations 
of  the  world  have  been  led  to  establish  such  international 
governments  as  the  Universal  Postal  Union  and  the 
Telegraphic  and  Eadiotelegraphic  Unions.  A  European 
Convention  regulates  the  shipment  of  goods  on  continental 
railways.  The  Automobile  Convention  of  1909  issues  in- 
ternational licenses  and  arranges  for  uniform  signpost 
marks.  International  commissions  control  the  navigation 
of  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine,  and  many  other  rivers  have 
been  opened  to  world  trade  by  common  agreement.  The 
Sugar  Union,  formed  in  1902,  binds  the  principal  Euro- 
pean countries  to  abolish  sugar  bounties,  and  excessive  im- 
port duties  on  this  staple.  The  International  Institute  of 
Agriculture,  with  headquarters  in  Eome,  is  of  special  in- 
terest, as  the  official  delegates  of  the  various  governments 
were  allowed  to  continue  their  service  throughout  the  War. 
The  Institute  issues  monthly  bulletins  on  plant  diseases 
and  crop  statistics.  The  aim  of  its  founder,  Mr.  Lubin  of 
California,  was  to  protect  the  farmers  of  the  world  from 
exploitation  through  excessive  freight  rates  and  the  cor- 
nering of  food  markets. 

The  investment  of  money  has  little  reference  to  national 
boundaries.  The  bonds  of  foreign  governments  and  mu- 
nicipalities are  marketed  as  readily  as  those  of  one's  own 
land.  Capital  reaches  out  for  a  share  in  factories  or  rail- 
ways or  oil  wells  on  the  other  side  of  the  world.  I  open 
my  IsTew  York  paper  and  am  offered  securities  in  Canada, 
^Newf  oundland,  Mexico,  Costa  Rica,  Dominica,  Chile,  Bra- 
zil, the  Argentine,  China  and  Japan. 

The  common  interests  of  Capital  have  found  expression 
in  world-wide  federations  of  Chambers  of  Commerce,  and 

'Op.  cit.,  17.     Cf,  Edwin  C.  Eckel,  Coal,  Iron  cmd  War,  1920, 
part  4. 


30^  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

of  many  commercial  groups.  The  International  Maritime 
Committee,  for  example,  made  up  of  associations  of  ship- 
ping men  in  the  principal  maritime  countries,  has  been 
able  to  secure  uniform  laws  in  regard  to  salvage  and  col- 
lisions. It  is  now  working  to  obtain  international  agree- 
ments on  safety  at  sea  and  the  through  shipment  of  freight. 
Other  associations  have  been  engaged  in  standardizing 
terms  and  units,  as  in  the  electrical  industry,  and  the  meth- 
ods of  testing  materials  or  analyzing  food  stuffs.  Inter- 
national standards  have  been  found  necessary  for  large- 
scale  production  and  the  full  development  of  world  trade. 

But  the  merging  of  national  in  international  interests 
has  gone  very  much  farther  than  the  question  of  standards. 
The  ship  owners  in  countries  bordering  on  the  Baltic  and 
White  Seas  found  that  unregulated  competition  was  cut- 
ting freights  to  the  point  where  wood  was  being  carried  at 
a  loss.  A  Conference  was  formed  in  1905,  representing 
considerably  over  half  of  the  tonnage  interested  in  the 
trade,  only  the  smaller  ship  owners  remaining  outside. 
Each  year  the  members  meet  to  -^x  a  binding  minimum 
tariff.  Before  the  War,  international  trusts  and  trade 
agreements  controlled  the  production  and  sale  of  a  long 
list  of  products,  from  potash  and  platinum  to  tobacco  and 
steel  rails. 

During  the  War  the  Allies  found  it  necessary  to  pool 
their  industrial  resources  and  means  of  transportation.  In- 
ternational regulation  of  trade,  and  even  allocation  of  fuel 
and  raw  materials,  has  been  proposed  as  a  permanent 
policy.  Thus  far  the  organization  of  the  League  of  [Rations 
has  followed  very  different  lines.  But  it  was  interesting  to 
have  La  Fontaine  of  Belgium  says,  in  the  first  League  As- 
sembly :  "I  consider  the  earth  as  a  property  unique  in  in- 
tegrity, from  which  humanity  as  a  whole  must  derive  full 
advantage  in  equal  measure." 

Labor  is  an  international  interest.  Labor  groups  of 
different  countries  are  in  constant  communication,  and 
deeply  influenced  by  one  another's  programs  or  successes. 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST      303 

Under  normal  world  conditions,  workmen  have  more  in 
common  with  the  workmen  of  another  nation,  than  they 
have  with  the  employers  of  their  own  nation.  Socialism 
has  been  international,  in  the  name  and  spirit  of  its  various 
organizations.  The  Trade  Unions  of  the  world  were  fed- 
erated in  1901,  and  national  boundaries  are  crossed  by 
many  organized  groups.  Take,  for  example,  the  Interna- 
tional Metal  Workers'  Federation,  with  a  membership  of 
over  a  million.  One  of  its  aims  is  to  prevent  undercutting 
of  wages  from  country  to  country.  Woolf  gives  the  case 
of  a  firm  of  silversmiths  in  Brussels  seeking  workers  in 
Birmingham.  The  latter  asked  the  British  Section  of  the 
Federation  to  find  out  whether  the  firm  in  Brussels  was 
"fair."  The  required  information  was  at  once  obtained 
from  the  Belgian  Section,  and  forwarded  to  Birmingham. 
Governments  have  been  forced  to  recognize  a  common 
labor  problem,  not  only  in  such  a  cosmopolitan  interest  as 
ocean  carriers,  but  in  all  lines  of  productive  activity.  No 
attempt  has  been  made,  except  through  protective  tariffs, 
to  guard  against  competition  from  countries  with  lower 
wages  and  living  standards.  This  matter  tends  to  adjust 
itself,  as  in  the  great  increase  of  wages  in  Japan  with  the 
rise  of  industrialism.  International  labor  legislation  has 
rather  attempted  to  standardize  working  conditions,  and 
thus  guard  progressive  nations  against  competition  that 
would  be  demoralizing  at  both  ends.  The  International 
Association  for  Labour  Legislation  ^  has  been  able  to  se- 
cure the  adoption  of  two  Conventions.  The  first,  signed 
by  13  States,  including  the  chief  industrial  countries  of 
Europe,  prohibits  night  work  for  women  between  10  p.  m. 

•Another  powerful  agency  is  the  International  Association  to 
Combat  Unemployment,  which  numbers  among  its  members  "8  gov- 
ernments, 17  national  official  bodies,  8  provinces,  2  federations  of 
towns,  59  towns,  14  official  municipal  bodies,  3  federations  nationales 
de  placements,  12  bourses  de  travail,  12  fonds  du  chCmage,  3  inter- 
national associations,  15  scientific  societies,  6  national  federations 
of  employers,  3  professional  federations,  4  local  federations,  30 
Labour  federations,  and  individuals  belonging  to  23  different 
countries." 


304  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

and  5  a.  m.  The  second,  designed  to  prevent  the  us©  of 
the  deadly  white  phosphorus  in  the  making  of  matches, 
has  been  ratified  hj  the  principal  manufacturing  nations, 
with  the  exception  of  Sweden  and  Japan. 

An  International  Labor  Office  and  Labor  Conference 
were  established  by  the  Peace  Treaty,  under  the  following 
Preamble:  ^^Whereas,  the  League  of  N'ations  has  for  its 
object  the  establishment  of  universal  peace,  and  such  a 
peace  can  be  established  only  if  it  is  based  upon  social  jus- 
tice ;  and  whereas ,  conditions  of  labour  exist  involving  such 
injustice,  hardship  and  privation  to  large  numbers  of 
people  as  to  produce  unrest  so  great  that»the  peace  and  har- 
mony of  the  world  are  imperilled ;  and  an  improvement  of 
those  conditions  is  urgently  required :  as,  for  example,  by 
the  regulation  of  the  hours  of  work,  including  the  establish- 
ment of  a  maximum  working  day  and  week,  the  regulation 
of  the  labour  supply,  the  prevention  of  unemployment,  the 
provision  of  an  adequate  living  wage,  the  protection  of  the 
worker  against  sickness,  disease  and  injury  arising  out  of 
his  employment,  the  protection  of  children,  young  persons 
and  women,  provisions  for  old  age  and  injury,  protection 
of  the  interests  of  workers  when  employed  in  countries 
other  than  their  own,  recognition  of  the  principle  of  free- 
dom of  association,  the  organisation  of  vocational  and  tech- 
nical education  and  other  measures ;  whereas  also  the  fail- 
ure of  any  nation  to  adopt  humane  conditions  of  labour  is 
an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  other  nations  which  desire  to 
improve  the  conditions  in  their  own  countries;  the  High 
Contracting  Parties,  moved  by  sentiments  of  justice  and 
humanity,  as  well  as  by  the  desire  to  secure  the  permanent 
peace  of  the  world,  agree  to  the  following":  permanent 
organization  specified,  which  is  in  active  and  efficient 
operation. 

The  International  Labor  Conference  held  its  first  meet- 
ing at  Washington,  in  the  summer  of  1919.  Of  123  dele- 
gates present,  from  35  nations,  73  were  appointed  by  their 
respective  governments,   25   represented  employers,   and 


THE  GKOWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST      305 

25  represented  labor.  Six  draft  Conventions  were  ap- 
proved, and  recommended  to  the  several  nations  for 
adoption.  These  covered  hours  of  labor,  unemployment, 
night  work  for  women,  the  employment  of  women  before 
and  after  childbirth,  and  night  work  for  young  workers. 
As  described  by  M.  Albert  Thomas,  the  Director  of  the 
Labor  Office :  "The  Conference  gives  definite  shape  to  so- 
cial reforms  of  international  scope  to  which  national  legis- 
latures may  give  the  force  of  law.  The  real  compelling 
force  behind  the  conventions  and  recommendations  of  the 
Conference  ...  is  that  of  public  opinion  in  every 
country."  ^® 

When  we  consider  the  world  politically,  underneath  the 
apparent  conflict  of  national  interests  there  is  a  growing 
community  of  interests.  Commercial  relations  are  pos- 
sible, only  where  protection  is  afforded  to  the  person  and 
property  of  citizens  residing  or  doing  business  in  another 
country.  The  ocean  is  a  common  highway.  To  assure  its 
free  use  for  peaceful  commerce,  even  in  time  of  war,  is  one 
of  the  world's  most  pressing  problems.  We  are  threatened 
by  the  disorder  and  lack  of  development  in  the  same  back- 
ward countries,  tempting  the  adventurer  and  the  exploiter, 
who  appeal  to  their  national  flags  for  protection.  Such  a 
thing  as  national  isolation  is  no  longer  possible.  Events 
on  the  other  side  of  the  globe  may  involve  us  in  diplomatic 
controversies  and  the  possibility  of  war.  The  quarrel  be- 
tween Austria  and  Serbia  drew  in  one  country  after  an- 
other, until  half  the  population  of  the  world  had  taken 
sides.  The  United  States,  which  had  prided  itself  on  its 
freedom  from  entanglement  in  European  politics,  found 
its  own  house  threatened  by  the  conflagration,  and  was 

^^Lnhour  cbs  an  International  Problem,  ed.  by  E.  John  Solano, 
1920,  263.  These  essays,  with  the.  appendices  covering  the  Labor 
section  of  the  Peace  Treaty,  and  the  agenda  of  the  Washington 
and  Geneva  Conferences,  will  repay  careful  study.  Some  other 
angles  to  the  discussion  are  supplied  by  I.  F.  Ayuwasa,  Intemat. 
Labor  Legislation,  1920;  Hist.  Sv/rvey  of  Intemat.  Action  Affecting 
Labor,  U.  S.  Bur.  of  Labor  Stat's,  Bull.  26'8,  1920;  Intemat.  Labor 
Legis.  amd  the  8oo.  of  Nations,  Bull.  254,  1919. 


306  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

obliged  to  mobilize  four  million  soldiers  to  help  put  out 
the  fire  in  Europe. 

Tbe  growing  body  of  International  Law  is  a  recognition 
of  the  common  political  interests  of  nations  in  their  deal- 
ings with  each  other.  It  began  with  custom  and  precedent, 
which  students  from  Grotius  onward  attempted  to  put  into 
the  form  of  rules  and  principles.  During  the  last  hundred 
years,  treaties  and  conventions  have  given  the  law  of  na- 
tions a  constantly  more  definite  basis.  European  Confer- 
ences, from  the  Congress  of  Vienna  in  1815  to  the  meet- 
ings at  the  Hague  in  1899  and  1907,  were  "rudimentary 
International  Legislatures."  When  41  sovereign  States, 
for  example,  ratified  the  revised  Convention  of  1907  for 
the  conduct  of  land  warfare,  they  surrendered  to  that  ex- 
tent their  freedom  of  action,  in  order  to  eliminate  unneces- 
sary barbarity  and  suffering.  The  Convention  limiting 
the  employment  of  force  for  the  recovery  of  contract  debts 
has  been  ratified  by  the  principal  commercial  nations. 
Mention  has  already  been  made  of  other  important  Con- 
ventions governing  common  action  in  time  of  peace.  The 
complaint  of  belligerents  in  the  reeent  War  that  interna- 
tional laws  were  being  broken  and  international  standards 
of  ethics  violated,  is  a  strong  witness  to  the  fact  that  such 
laws  and  standards  exist  and  are  generally  acknowledged. 
As  Lawrence  says:  "The  controversies  of  one  generation 
produce  the  undoubted  law  of  the  next."  ^^ 

The  great  Powers  have  repeatedly  acted  together  to 
settle  the  affairs  of  disturbed  or  threatening  territories. 
Turkey,  in  its  relation  to  Greece  and  to  the  Balkans,  has 
come  in  for  its  full  share  of  this  joint  legislative  and  po- 
lice power.  Belgium  was  made  a  neutral  state  in  1831, 
and  Luxemburg  in  1872.  The  Congress  of  Berlin,  in 
1885,  determined  the  relations  of  the  European  States  to 

"T.  J.  Lawrence,  Prints  of  Internat.  Law,  4th  ed.,  1910,  15. 
See  also  L.  Oppenheim,  Internat.  Law,  3rd  ed.,  1920;  Amos  S.  Her- 
shey.  Essentials  of  Internat.  Fuilic  Law,  1916;  Wm.  E.  Hall, 
Internat.  Law,  7th  ed.,  1917;  A.  Pearce  Higgins,  The  Hague  Peace 
Conferences,  1909,  with  texts  of  the  Conventions. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST       307 

the  Congo  and  other  parts  of  Central  Africa.  The  Con- 
ference of  Algeciras  attempted  to  do  the  same  for  Morocco, 
by  creating  an  international  control  of  administration  and 
trade.  Map  making  and  policing  on  a  large  scale  were 
involved  in  the  Treaty  of  Versailles.  A  common  policy 
in  regard  to  China  is  one  of  the  principal  agenda  of  the 
Disarmament  Conference. 

A  start  has  been  made  toward  an  international  Judi- 
ciary. The  Permanent  Court  of  Arbitration,  proposed  by 
the  First  Hague  Conference,  was  ratified  by  44  nations, 
representing  91  per  cent  of  the  world's  population.  It 
maintains  a  list  of  available  judges,  selected  by  the  signa- 
tory powers.  Nations  which  agree  to  bring  a  case  before 
the  tribunal,  select  four  judges  from  this  list,  and  these 
in  turn  name  an  umpire.  The  award,  given  by  majority 
vote,  is  binding  on  both  parties.  At  the  same  Conference, 
provision  was  made  for  commissions  of  enquiry,  and 
friendly  mediation  by  a  third  power.  An  International 
Prize  Court  was  added  in  1907.  Fifteen  judges  are  ap- 
pointed by  the  signatory  powers,  and  serve  as  a  court  of 
final  appeal  for  cases  already  tried  in  their  national  courts. 
Except  as  provided  by  special  treaty,  arbitration  is  compul- 
sory only  in  prize  cases  and  those  involving  the  collection 
of  contract  debts.^^  A  Court  of  Arbitral  Justice  was  pro- 
posed by  the  Second  Hague  Conference.  The  First  League 
Assembly  took  steps  to  put  the  plan  in  operation.  Ratifica- 
tion has  been  secured  from  30  nations ;  22  being  the  mini- 
mum required.  This  Court  will  sit  permanently  to  decide 
cases  brought  before  it,  thus  making  arbitration  simpler 
and  more  rapid. 

The  stupendous  losses  involved  in  modem  wars,  and  the 
cost  of  preparedness,  have  led  to  a  general  demand  for 
the  proportional  reduction  of  armaments  and  for  some  form 
of  international  insurance  against  war.  Two  recent  at- 
tempts have  been  made  to  meet  this  demand.     The  first 

"References  will  be  found  in  Edw.  Krehbiel,  Nationalism,  War 
and  Society,  1916. 


SOB  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

was  the  League  of  Nations,  planned  as  the  foundation  of 
the  Versailles  Treaty.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  add 
to  the  voluminous  discussion  of  this  subject.  The  history 
of  the  League,  as  a  force  for  shaping  future  national  rela- 
tions, cannot  be  written  before  the  event.  Whatever  its  de- 
fects, and  however  ill-starred  its  birth,  the  world  has  seen 
the  formation  of  an  international  insurance  company.  And 
it  includes  as  its  stockholders  practically  all  eligible  coun- 
tries, with  the  exception  of  the  United  States.  That  the 
League  is  a  going  concern  is  shown  by  the  references  I  have 
found  it  necessary  to  make  to  it  in  the  course  of  this 
chapter,  and  by  the  number  of  important  questions  it  has 
settled  in  the  first  two  years  of  its  life. 

The  second  attempt,  which  will  be  completed  before  my 
book  is  published,  is  the  Conference  on  Disarmament  and 
Problems  of  the  Pacific,  which  assembled  at  Washington 
in  November,  1921,  in  response  to  the  invitation  of  the 
United  States  government.  The  proposals  for  naval  dis- 
armament are  too  recent  to  require  comment.  If  carried 
out,  they  will  practically  put  an  end  to  offensive  warfare 
on  the  sea.  Ajiother  notable  feature  of  the  Conference, 
by  contrast  with  that  of  Versailles,  is  its  responsiveness  to 
popular  sentiment.  Not  only  have  the  sessions  at  Wash- 
ington awakened  a  remarkable  interest  throughout  a  war- 
weary  and  tax-burdened  world.  The  decisions  to  be  made 
appear  to  depend  largely  on  the  current  of  public  opinion 
in  the  various  countries  involved. 

It  is  important  to  note  that  the  centrifugal  tendencies  of 
nationalism  are  more  than  balanced  today  by  a  centripetal 
tendency  toward  the  larger  grouping  of  nations.  No  coun- 
try feels  strong  enough  to  stand  alone;  it  finds  safety  only 
in  ententes  and  alliances.  The  new  Baltic  States  are  a 
case  in  point.  Each  is  the  product  of  a  strong  national- 
istic movement.  They  had  many  conflicting  interests, 
which  led  to  actual  or  threatened  strife.  But  common 
interest  proved  stronger.    Hardly  had  peace  treaties  been 


THE  GEOWTH  OF  COMMON  INTEREST      309 

signed,  when  a  Conference  of  Baltic  States  met  at  Riga, 
on  Aug.  3,  1920.  Representatives  were  present  from  Fin- 
land, Poland,  Lithuania,  Letvia  and  Esthonia.  A  treaty 
for  compulsory  arbitration  was  adopted,  and  steps  taken  to 
work  out  a  common  customs  and  railway  policy.  This 
centripetal  tendency  is  likely  to  grow  stronger  in  future 
years,  because  of  the  handicaps  in  economic  isolation. 

Other  centripetal  tendencies  are  found  in  the  fact  al- 
ready noted,  that  the  grouping  of  both  Capital  and  Labor 
is  coming  to  be  along  horizontal  rather  than  vertical  lines. 
The  larger  industries  have  more  to  gain  from  the  forma- 
tion of  world-wide  trusts  than  from  the  pushing  of  exclu- 
sive national  interests.  Peace  and  good  order  mean  in- 
creased purchasing  power.  Increased  purchasing  power  in 
any  country  means  a  better  market  for  the  world's  goods. 
The  working  class  movement  is  strongly  opposed  to  large 
armaments,  secret  diplomacy,  and  colonial  exploitation. 
Governments  have  been  inclined  to  consider  the  interests 
of  individual  traders  and  investors.  But  the  growing 
strength  of  the  workers  as  a  political  force  compels  in- 
creasing attention  to  the  interests  of  the  whole  community. 
And  in  the  declarations  of  the  British  and  other  labor 
groups,  during  and  after  the  War,  "the  whole  community" 
refers  to  the  world  and  not  to  any  single  nation. 

In  national  as  in  all  other  human  relations,  Man  learns 
only  through  social  experience.  Whether  he  will  profit 
by  experience  depends  on  many  psychological  factors. 
Such  advances  as  are  made  are  not  in  straight  lines,  or  at 
equal  rates  of  speed.  Certain  nations  lead,  while  others 
lag.  The  idealist  may  grow  impatient  as  he  studies  the 
appraisal  of  internationalism  which  I  have  given  in  this 
chapter.  A  real  Federation  of  the  World  is  a  dream  of 
the  distant  future.  The  diplomacy  of  the  old  school  is  still 
very  much  in  evidence.  The  possibility  of  recurring  wars 
is  far  from  ended.  But  it  is  clear  from  the  record  that 
men,  in  their  national  groups,  have  begun  to  think  in  in- 


310  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

temational  terms  and  practice  world  citizensliip.  Progress 
may  be  slow  and  incomplete.  But  we  are  learning  to  live 
in  a  social  Universe,  to  adjust  ourselves  to  a  God  of  justice 
and  goodwill.  The  civilized  world  has  gone  far  toward 
recognizing  tlie  Christian  principle  of  common  interest. 


XXV. 

THE  FUTURE. 

When  a  traveller  returns  from  a  tour  of  the  world,  he 
finds  it  helpful  to  record  his  general  impressions.  We  set 
out  in  this  book  to  examine  in  a  scientific  spirit  the  Uni- 
verse in  which  we  live,  in  order  to  find  if  possible  a  basis 
for  personal  and  social  ethics.  We  have  reached  the  end 
of  the  journey.  In  this  chapter  I  propose  to  put  together 
what  I  regard  as  the  result  of  our  search. 

Jesus'  idea  of  the  Universe  has  proved  adequate  as  a 
working  hypothesis.  It  is  a  searchlight  illuminating  hu- 
man life  and  history.  Christianity,  the  climax  of  the  long 
religious  evolution  of  the  race,  appears  from  our  study  as 
an  essential  element  in  civilization.  We  cannot  consider 
it  a  survival  of  superstition,  or  a  poetical  addition  to  hu- 
man thought,  which  may  be  dispensed  with  in  the  affairs 
of  practical  life.  The  religion  of  Jesus  represents  a  ma- 
tured interpretation  of  the  world  in  which  man  finds  him- 
self. It  is  the  fulfillment  of  that  instinct  which  leads  all 
life,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
environment.  It  is  the  reaction  of  man  to  an  essentially 
Christian  Universe,  the  attitude  of  confidence,  teachable- 
ness and  enthusiasm  which  are  necessary  for  the  highest 
social  development. 

The  interpretation  of  Jesus  stands  in  sharpest  contrast 
with  the  view  of  the  Universe  found  in  other  religious 
systems,  and  in  much  historic  and  contemporary  Chris- 
tianity. Elsewhere  we  have  the  separation  of  God  and 
the  world,  a  completed  creation,  a  problem  of  evil  which 

311 


312  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

can  be  solved  only  by  Divine  intervention,  a  situation  of 
human  helplessness  that  gives  no  encouragement  for  hope 
or  effort.  With  Jesus,  on  the  other  hand,  we  find  a  present 
and  unescapable  God,  a  continuous  creation,  God  and  man 
working  together  for  the  completion  and  betterment  of  the 
human  world,  no  situation  final  and  no  evil  insuperable, 
the  future  as  hopeful  as  the  character  of  God  and  the 
strength  of  our  own  effort.  The  first  theory  leads  to  pes- 
simism and  social  stagnation.  The  Christian  theory,  be- 
cause of  its  truer  interpretation  of  the  Universe  and  its 
incentive  for  human  endeavor,  is  the  only  religion  which 
can  have  permanent  value  for  the  modem  world. 

Jesus  applies  to  the  Universe  and  our  relations  with  it 
the  four  great  ideas  of  Spirit,  Democracy,  Kighteousness 
and  Goodwill. 

The  present  is  an  opportune  time  to  substitute  a  spir- 
itualistic for  a  materialistic  philosophy  of  life  and  history. 
The  World  War  and  the  industrial  conflict  have  opened  our 
eyes  to  the  practical  futility  of  Materialism.  This  dis- 
covery coincides  with  the  collapse  of  its  theoretical  basis. 
I  ask  the  reader  to  recall  the  series  of  scientific  conclu- 
sions brought  out  in  the  earlier  part  of  our  study:  the 
new  dynamic  conception  of  Matter,  the  relativity  of  Space, 
the  fundamental  identity*  of  the  physical  and  organic,  the 
perfecting  of  living  mechanism,  the  gradual  adjustment 
of  man's  mind  to  the  external  world.  How  remarkably 
these  conclusions  fit  into  Jesus'  conception  of  the  Universe. 
We  are  given  the  outlines  of  a  consistent  working  philoso- 
phy. The  Universe  reveals  the  activity  of  a  Being  essen- 
tially mental  or  spiritual  (if  we  may  use  human  analogies) 
rather  than  inert  or  mechanical,  with  Whom  development 
is  a  natural  self-expression,  and  social  progress  a  definite 
goal  rather  than  an  accident.  From  nebula  to  star,  from 
sun  to  planet,  from  electron  to  molecule,  from  amino  acid 
to  living  cell,  from  microoganism  to  man,  we  see  one 
characteristic  process  of  Divine  unfolding,  as  the  Universe 
becomes  increasingly  differentiated.    It  is  not  such  a  proc- 


THE  FUTURE  313 

ess  as  our  limited  intelligence  might  have  predicted,  but 
far  more  varied  and  full  of  interest  and  wonder. 

A  fire-mist  and  a  planet, 

A  crystal  and  a  cell, 
A  jelly-fish  and  a  saurian, 

And  CAves  where  cave-men  dwell. 
Then  a  sense  of  law  and  beauty 

And  a  face  turned  from  the  clod, — 
Some  call  it  Evolution, 

And  others  call  it  God. 

With  the  appearance  of  Man,  as  a  conscious  independent 
unit,  the  process  changes,  as  far  as  our  planet  is  concerned. 
An  Absolute  Monarchy  gives  place  to  a  social  and  demo- 
cratic Universe.  After  a  possible  intermediate  stage  in  the 
case  of  lower  organisms,  the  Monism  which  we  find  in  the 
external  world  becomes  a  Pluralism,  a  cooperation  between 
men  and  God,  both  in  physical  creation  and  in  the  develop- 
ment of  man  and  society.  Such  a  distinction  is  not  based 
on  abstract  theory,  but  on  our  inductive  study  of  human 
activity.^  A  good  many  philosophies  have  met  shipwreck 
through  the  failure  to  note  this  change.  They  sought  to 
explain  the  whole  process  in  terms  of  a  Monism,  an  Abso- 
lute, and  the  facts  of  human  life  stubbornly  refused  to  fit 
the  theory.  Or  they  failed  to  grasp  the  idea  of  the  external 
Universe  as  an  expression  of  God's  activity  and  character, 
the  fact  that,  for  practical  purposes,  God  and  the  World 
constitute  one  whole  to  which  man  must  adjust  his  life. 

This  democratic  character  of  the  present  Universe  is  of 
the  greatest  practical  importance.  It  gives  a  cosmic  value 
to  every  human  function  and  activity :  reproduction,  health, 
character  building,  the  tilling  of  the  soil,  the  achievement 
of  science  and  beauty,  the  creation  of  a  wholesome  social 
environment,  the  participation  in  industrial  and  national 
relations  and  their  proper  direction.    We  are  not  called 

^  See  chapters  7  to  12. 


314  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

on  to  submit  to  "the  bludgeonings  of  Chance,"  or  to  the 
decrees  of  a  Divine  Autocrat.  We  are  partners  in  a  cosmic 
enterprise,  in  which  at  every  turn  we  have  the  opportunity 
to  cooperate  with  God.  To  do  this  effectively  we  must 
learn  His  character  and  His  laws.  The  Divine  work  of 
creation  gains  immensely  in  interest  when  we  have  a 
share  in  it,  and  a  responsibility  for  the  outcome.  We  know 
that  our  own  life  and  the  world  of  today  and  tomorrow 
will  be  what  we  help  to  make  it.  Our  earthly  existence 
is  not  "an  epileptic  fit  between  two  nothings."  It  is  the 
challenge  of  a  great  adventure. 

It  is  through  this  partnership  relation  between  man  and 
God  that  we  are  able  to  learn  the  Kighteousness  of  the 
Universe.  There  are  social  laws,  just  as  truly  as  there  are 
physical  and  biological  laws.  Discovered  through  reli- 
gious experience,  these  principles  underlying  human  so- 
ciety may  be  verified  by  observation  and  experiment.  Our 
book  has  attempted  in  a  provisional  way  to  make  this  ob- 
servation, and  to  sum  up  the  result  of  the  experiments  that 
are  available  in  the  conduct  of  individuals,  groups  and  na- 
tions. Socially  the  Universe  grows  ever  more  complex; 
but  its  laws  have  not  changed.  And  its  laws  are  the  reflec- 
tion of  its  character.  God's  laws  today  are  what  they  al- 
ways have  been.  The  laws  of  motion  were  true  long  ages 
before  !N'ewton  formulated  them.  Twenty-five  hundred 
years  ago  it  took  a  Hebrew  prophet  to  perceive  God's  moral 
laws.  But  today  these  are  evident  to  the  man  on  the  street, 
if  he  will  open  his  eyes  to  the  most  characteristic  features 
of  our  civilization,  and  the  conditions  of  lasting  success 
and  failure. 

Jesus'  most  pregnant  discovery  was  that  morality  and 
goodwill  are  not  contrary  to  Nature,  but  in  accord  with 
jN^ature.  These  motives  take  their  rise  in  the  primitive  in- 
stincts of  parenthood  and  association,  which  are  as  natural 
and  dominant  as  self-assertion  and  self-gratification.  In 
the  experience  and  discipline  of  the  race,  morality  and 
goodwill  have  become  the  determinative  factors  in  human 


THE  FUTURE  315 

life.  The  development  of  civilized  society  is  due  to  the 
triumph  of  reason  and  common  interest  over  force  and 
selfishness.  In  the  long  run,  advancement  depends  on 
the  reactions  which  come  from  favorahle  treatment  ac- 
corded to  other  individuals.  The  economic  changes  of  the 
last  century  have  greatly  strengthened  the  idea  of  mutual 
dependence  and  service.  Good  morals  are  good  business. 
The  practice  of  honor,  integrity  and  consideration  brings 
definite  advantage  to  the  individual,  under  normal  circum- 
stances. I  consider  this  a  legitimate  induction  from  our 
survey  of  the  wide  range  of  human  activity.  As  to  why 
such  qualities  should  be  an  asset  in  daily  life,  the  only  sat- 
isfactory explanation  is  that  of  Jesus.  They  are  grounded 
in  the  very  nature  of  God.  They  are  an  adjustment  to 
our  Divine  Environment. 

That  Jesus  has  given  a  true  interpretation  of  the  Uni- 
verse, is  confirmed  by  our  study  of  industrial  and  national 
relations.  All  behavior  has  a  biological  basis.  It  repre- 
sents the  interaction  of  the  organism  with  its  environment, 
a  response  to  the  conditions  under  which  its  life  is  spent 
Inherited  instincts,  which  arose  far  back  in  evolutionary 
history,  have  been  disciplined  and  coordinated  by  man's 
experience  in  society.  Thus  the  laws  of  social  ethics  have 
a  two-fold  aspect.  They  represent  an  adjustment  to  the 
Universe  and  a  cooperation  with  its  physical  and  moral 
forces.  They  express  at  the  same  time  the  art  of  human 
behavior.  Through  all  forms  of  association  we  have 
traced  the  principle  of  common  interest.  The  action  of 
one  group  toward  another  calls  out  responses  which  may  be 
predicted  with  a  considerable  degree  of  accuracy.  To 
secure  goodwill,  with  its  substantial  advantages,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  consider  the  responses,  partly  instinctive,  partly 
reasoned  and  ethical,  on  which  such  favorable  result  is  con- 
ditioned. This  general  law  of  behavior  holds  good  whether 
we  consider  the  production  of  goods,  the  cooperation  of 
subject  peoples,  or  the  political  and  commercial  intercourse 
of  nations.    Group  reactions*  are  complicated  by  sentiment, 


316  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

prejudice,  variations  in  leadership,  and  the  strength  of 
special  interests.  But  broadly  speaking  we  may  say  that 
the  industry  or  nation  which  substitutes  dishonesty,  injus- 
tice or  selfishness  for  honesty,  justice  and  mutual  service, 
is  violating  the  laws  of  Behavior  and  running  counter  to 
the  Universe.  Because  of  the  solidarity  of  hiunan  society, 
and  the  character  of  the  God  who  determines  the  environ- 
ment for  society,  such  a  course  will  not  only  fail  to  attain 
its  end.  The  failure  will  bring  a  dislocation  and  embitter- 
ment  that  threaten  the  very  existence  of  civilization.  The 
tragedy  of  the  World  War  is  not  an  isolated  phenomenon. 

How  are  we  to  define  the  task  upon  which  ^s  a  race  we 
are  engaged  ?  From  a  historical  standpoint  I  doubt  if  it 
is  capable  of  adequate  definition  or  description.  It  is  prob- 
able that  the  social  order  which  is  being  developed  upon 
our  planet  will  always  be  experimental  and  partial,  rather 
than  fixed  and  ideal.  From  the  very  fact  that  it  is  develop- 
ing, its  outlines  must  of  necessity  change  from  generation 
to  generation.  We  may  regard  the  Kingdom  or  Republic 
of  God  as  the  cosmic  enterprise  which  God  and  men,  as 
far  as  they  cooperate  with  Him,  are  working  out,  slowly 
and  with  infinite  struggle  and  sacrifice,  through  the  years 
of  our  planetary  life  and  the  unknown  future.  It  is  an 
achievement  rather  than  an  evolution.  It  is  not  a  finished 
order  that  may  be  brought  down  from  heaven  to  earth. 
It  may  not  be  even  an  attainable  goal.  It  is  not  a  ter- 
minus, but  a  pathway;  a  mountain  trail  up  which  the 
race  is  painfully  climbing,  guided  by  the  stars ;  a  growing 
brotherhood ;  a  fellowship  of  endeavor,  in  which  Man  does 
not  strive  alone;  a  Divinely  guided  becoming  of  persons 
and  societies. 

In  one  direction,  however,  it  is  possible  to  make  the 
social  goal  more  definite.  While  the  social  order  is  a 
variable,  man  himself  is  a  constant.  Human  society  is  not 
an  organism ;  this  analogy  has  been  very  much  overworked. 
It  is  rather  the  organized  relation  of  many  independent 
organic  units,  gathered  into  groups  according  to  their 


THE  FUTURE  317 

diiferent  interests,  habits  and  desires.  From  the  biologi- 
cal standpoint,  which  I  have  tried  to  keep  throughout  our 
book,  the  objective  in  human  life  is  the  education  of  the 
individual  in  knowledge  of  the  Universe  and  ability  to 
adjust  himself  to  it. 

This  position  is  in  harmony  with  what  our  study  has 
shown  as  to  the  importance -of  the  human  unit  in  relation 
to  God.  Personality  is  thus  both  the  goal  and  the  means 
of  the  creative  process.  For  Jesus,  the  chief  end  of  man 
is  to  know  God  and  cooperate  with  Him.  And  the  main 
object  of  such  cooperation  is  the  cultivation  of  human 
powers  and  human  character.  The  fundamental  principle 
of  Ethics  may  be  stated  as  the  highest  possible  develop- 
ment of  personality  for  the  greatest  number.  The  paradox 
of  Christianity,  that  self-development  requires  self-forget- 
f  ulness,  is  a  reflection  of  the  solidarity  of  society.  We  can- 
not permanently  raise  ourselves,  without  raising  the  other 
environing  lives  that  exert  such  an  influence  upon  our  own. 
An  exclusive  devotion  to  one's  own  training  would  atrophy 
the  Christian  virtues,  which  are  primarily  social  virtues. 
Only  through  mutual  service  can  we  fully  adapt  our- 
selves to  a  social  and  Divine  world. 

A  new  emphasis  on  the  individual  has  come  with  the 
growth  of  the  democratic  idea.  It  is  dawning  upon  us 
that  the  making  of  tools  and  increase  of  production  are 
valuable  chiefly  as  they  result  in  making  better  men.  This 
is  a  task  that  is  present  as  well  as  future.  Our  problem 
is  not  to  make  super-men.  Fifty  thousand  years  from 
now  we  are  likely  to  have  about  the  same  human  elements, 
the  same  instincts,  the  same  range  of  intelligence  quo- 
tients, to  deal  with.  The  task  of  each  generation  is  to  de- 
velop the  latent  possibilities  in  the  men  and  women  of 
that  generation.  By  this  the  attainment  of  each  age  is  to 
be  judged.  The  degree  of  success  which  we  have  reached 
in  our  cooperation  with  God,  must  be  measured  not  pri- 
marily by  material  civilization  or  the  form  of  the  social 
order,  but  by  the  kind  of  men  and  women  which  that  civili- 


318  CHAOS  OK  COSMOS? 

zation  and  that  social  order  are  producing,  in  the  midst 
of  their  historic  development. 

The  limits  to  our  enterprise  appear  to  be  set  by  Man 
rather  than  by  the  Universe.     The  earth  gives  every  indi- 
cation   of    being    good    for    an    indefinite    period    of 
social  development.     For  at  least  one  hundred  million 
years  our  planet  has  kept  substantially  its  present  atmos- 
phere and  hydrosphere,  temperature  range,  and  other  con- 
ditions suitable  for  organic  life.     There  is  no  physical 
reason  why  the  status  quo  might  not  be  preserved  for  an- 
other million   centuries.      A   collision  with   some   other 
heavenly  body  is  possible,  but  not  probable.    According  to 
Arrhenius,  the  supply  of  carbonic  acid  gas  is  increasing 
rather  than  diminishing,  with  promise  of  milder  climates 
in  the  northern  regions  and  more  abundant  crops.  ^     The 
fuel  supply  stored  on  the  earth  is  undoubtedly  limited. 
Long,  however,  before  our  coal  and  oil  are  exhausted,  we 
shall  be  developing  heat  and  power,  not  only  from  water- 
falls and  tides,  but  from  the  sun's  rays  and  from  intra- 
atomic  energy.    Exhaustion  of  our  beds  of  iron  ore  might 
be  made  up  by  the  discovery  of  adequate  substitutes  for 
steel.     The  supply  of  certain  food  elements  may  reach 
a  point  beyond  which  increase  is  impossible.     But  any 
limitation  resulting  would  be  on  population  rather  than  on 
life  itself. 

One  aspect  of  the  future,  the  immortality  of  the  indi- 
vidual, I  cannot  discuss  in  detail  in  this  volume.  While 
a  study  of  abnormal  psychic  phenomena  is  likely  to  throw 
light  on  the  subject,  it  is  impossible  to  weigh  such  evidence 
until  we  have  recovered  from  our  present  hysteria  over 
supposed  communications  with  the  dead.  I  have  consistr 
ently  avoided  any  definition  of  consciousness.  The  whole 
problem  of  Personality,  human  and  Divine,  is  deferred  to 
a  later  book.  Let  me  remind  the  reader  that  the  question 
o£  human  immortality  is  another  phase  of  the  problem 
of  Monism  and  Pluralism.  It  has  to  do  with  soul  value 
^  Worlds  m  the  Making,  61. 


THE  FUTTJEE  319 

rather  than  with  specific  soul  substance.  We  live  in  a 
spiritual  not  a  material  Universe.  Man's  body  is  a  com- 
ponent part  of  that  Universe.^  Man's  mind,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  have  been  led  to  consider  as  a  separate  unit  in 
the  work  of  creation,  a  conscious  and  controlling  entity. 
Does  this  independent  and  cooperative  relation  in  which 
the  human  unit  stands  to  God,  continue  after  the  disinte- 
gration of  the  organism  ?  That  in  brief  is  the  problem  of 
immortal  life. 

If  we  accept  the  position  that  the  fullest  perfecting  of 
the  individual  is  the  prime  end  of  the  creative  process 
which  we  see  going  on  around  us,  certain  facts  are  at  once 
apparent    Man's  powers  are  only  partially  developed  dur- 
ing his  earthly  existence.     Studies  in  hypnotism  and  kin- 
dred phenomena  give  us  a  glimpse  of  vastly  greater  pos- 
sibilities.*    The  heights  of  human  character  are  attained 
only  by  the  few.    It  is  legitimate  to  assume,  as  Jesus  does, 
that  the  distinct  yet  cooperative  existence  which  God  gives 
to  man  during  his  organic  life,  is  of  sufficient  importance 
to  be  continued  after  the  discarding  of  the  bodily  machine. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  Universe  as  we  know  it  that  bars 
the  way  for  such  a  faith.     The  average  healthy-minded 
person  believes  that  it  is  worth  while  for  man  to  live.    It 
would  seem  equally  worth  while  for  him  to  keep  on  living. 
Our  concern  in  this  book  has  been  with  the  principles 
underlying  the  success  of  social  and  political  movements, 
rather  than  with  predictions  or  panaceas.     Christianity 
was  not  committed  at  the  beginning,  and  cannot  be  com- 
mitted today,  to  any  specific  plan  of  social  and  economic 
organization.    It  is  acting  as  a  powerful  leaven.    Whether 
the  present  order  will  burst  or  merely  expand  under  such 
fermentation,  remains  to  be  seen.     The  shaping  of  the 
social  order  of  the  future,  in  the  light  of  what  we  know  of 
man  in  his  relation  to  the  Universe,  is  a  problem  which 
will  demand  the  best  intellectual  effort  of  our  own  and  f u- 

*See  particularly  chapters  7  and  11. 
*See  my  Unfolding  Universe,  253. 


320  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

ture  generations.  "What  Jesus  calls  tlie  Kingdom  of  God 
is  not  a  Utopia.  It  is  a  future  hope,  but  it  is  also  a  present 
reality.  It  is  an  imperfect  human  society,  slowly  learning 
to  adjust  itself  to  a  divine  Environment.  The  situation  is 
complicated  by  individual  differences,  desires,  habits  and 
prejudices.  Men  learn  only  through  wide  and  often  costly 
experiment.  The  rapid  progress  of  the  last  few  centuries, 
the  slower  advance  of  the  preceding  millenniums,  is  set 
in  a  perspective  of  long  ages  in  which  man's  life  and 
struggle  brought  only  a  limited  and  unstable  adjustment 
to  God.  As  social  experience  grows,  as  we  become  more 
familiar  with  the  laws  of  the  Universe,  as  this  experience 
crystallizes  into  habits  of  thought  and  action,  we  may  look 
forward  to  a  more  just,  efficient  and  peaceful  world.  But 
even  so,  human  nature  will  adjust  itself  very  imperfectly 
to  the  Divine  laws  which  underlie  Society. 

In  the  development  of  individual  character,  we  must 
expect  to  meet  the  same  frequent  failure.  It  is  this  which 
constitutes  the  crucifixion  of  God,  and  of  those  who  have 
caught  something  of  His  vision  of  the  moral  possibilities 
of  man.  The  development  of  the  individual,  like  that  of 
the  social  order,  is  an  achievement  rather  than  an  evolution. 
Man  as  an  organism  is  complete.  Man  as  a  social  unit 
must  be  made  anew,  for  better  or  worse,  in  each  genera- 
tion. The  tragic  mistakes  of  human  life  and  history  are 
perhaps  inevitable.  They  are  a  necessary  consequence  of 
the  method  which  God  follows,  of  revealing  Himself 
through  man's  self-discipline  and  acquired  cooperation. 
As  far  as  such  failures  are  due  to  the  lack  of  personal  ef- 
fort and  discipline,  we  must  charge  them  to  the  moral 
profit-and-loss  account  of  the  Universe.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  the  task  of  Society  to  reduce  to  the  lowest  point  the 
failures  which  are  due  to  living  conditions,  social  environ- 
ment, and  the  lack  of  proper  education  and  guidance.  Our 
common  business  is  to  study,  and  as  far  as  possible  to 
remedy,  the  fundamental  causes  of  low  standards,  misery, 
vice  and  crime.    In  this  work  of  social  betterment,  as  our 


THE  FUTUEB  321 

study  of  Providence  has  shown,  we  can  count  on  the  active 
cooperation  of  the  Universe.  Back  of  our  human  struggles 
stands  the  Christ-like  God;  the  Servant  of  Humanity,  to 
use  Isaiah's  term;  the  All-Father  of  Jesus'  teaching,  who 
bears  on  His  heart  the  sin  and  suffering  of  the  world. 

In  earlier  chapters  we  have  noted  in  detail  the  part 
which  human  cooperation  with  God  has  played  in  the  per- 
fecting of  mental  and  physical  tools,  the  development  of 
the  food  supply,  the  organizing  of  industry.  Out  of  this 
growing  knowledge  of  the  Universe  and  its  laws  has  come 
our  vast  and  complex  material  civilization.  And  through 
the  prevention  of  accidents  and  the  science  of  bacteriology, 
the  course  of  Providence  is  increasingly  under  man's  con- 
trol. In  the  field  of  social  relations,  we  must  humbly  ac^ 
knowledge  our  failure.  The  excessive  optimism  over  hu- 
man achievement,  of  which  we  may  have  been  guilty  in 
the  early  years  of  the  century,  has  been  dispelled  by  later 
events.  Xo  one  living  in  1921  would  be  likely  to  call  this 
a  well-ordered  or  successful  world.  Our  failure  is  the 
failure  of  social  science.  We  have  not  learned  to  know 
the  Universe  in  which  we  live.  We  have  misread  its  char- 
acter. We  have  failed  to  follow  the  clue  that  Christianity 
has  given. 

The  progressive  social  tendencies  and  experiments  which 
I  have  outlined  in  the  chapters  on  Industry  are  beginning 
to  be  interpreted  by  the  study  of  Behavior,  and  will  in 
time  affect  social  theory.  The  same  scientific  treatment 
may  be  hoped  for  in  the  field  of  national  behavior.  The 
moral  laws  of  the  Universe  are  natural,  not  sentimental. 
They  are  our  generalization  from  action  and  reaction  in 
the  personal  sphere,  as  gravitation  or  light  pressure  or 
crystallization  or  osmosis  are  generalizations  from  action 
and  reaction  in  the  physical  sphere.  When  we  come  to 
know  and  follow  the  moral  laws  of  the  Universe,  as  we 
have  learned  to  know  and  follow  the  laws  of  physics  and 
biology,  of  health  and  sanitation,  our  adjustment  to  God 
and  our  cooperation  with  Him  will  bring  equally  striking 


322  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

results  in  industry  and  world  politics.  We  shall  be  in  a 
position  to  control  social  forces,  as  we  now  control  physical 
and  biological  forces.  In  this  lies  the  hope  of  the  future. 
Along  such  lines  we  must  seek  a  solution  of  the  many  vex- 
ing problems  of  the  present.  It  is  inconceivable  that  the 
race  which  has  conquered  the  world  through  natural  sci- 
ence, will  continue  to  meet  shipwreck  through  its  failure 
to  master  the  far  simpler  and  equally  natural  science  of 
human  relations. 

In  this  book  I  have  treated  Christianity  as  an  intel- 
lectual interpretation  of  the  world.  But  religion  is  more 
than  a  working  hypothesis,  a  practical  philosophy  of  life. 
The  mere  acceptance  of  Jesus'  view  of  the  Universe  is  not 
Christianity.  The  Christian  reaction  to  the  Universe  in- 
volves a  personal  faith,  an  acting  out  of  its  interpretation 
of  the  world,  an  emotional  response  capable  of  immense 
dynamic  power.  Important  as  is  Jesus'  theory  of  a  spir- 
itual and  moral  Cosmos,  this  is  overshadowed  by  the  loy- 
alty, the  ethical  and  social  enthusiasm,  which  he  has  been 
able  to  inspire  in  his  followers.  The  remarkable  feature 
of  Christianity  is  not  its  program  for  human  life,  but  its 
ability  to  realize  that  program. 

If  the  Christian  religion,  like  historical  religions  of 
earlier  ages,  can  be  made  to  represent  the  attitude  of  civ- 
ilized peoples  toward  the  Universe,  the  gain  both  to  Eeli- 
gion  and  to  Civilization  is  almost  incalculable.  The  reli- 
gion of  authority  has  passed,  or  is  passing.  It  is  out  of 
harmony  with  the  modern  spirit  of  democracy  and  free 
enquiry.  But  that  spirit  encourages  and  demands  a  reli- 
gion which  trusts  in  and  cooperates  with  the  Universe.  The 
collapse  of  philosophical  materialism  comes  at  a  time  when 
we  have  begun  to  recover  the  Christianity  of  Jesus.  Faith 
is  essential  to  life,  and  religious  belief  and  expression  are 
the  soil  in  which  it  normally  grows.  Our  leaders  in  pure 
and  applied  Science,  in  social  service  and  social  philoso- 
phy, have  frequently  shown  a  devotion,  a  self-effacement, 
a  loyalty  to  truth,  a  breadth  of  vision,  that  are  truly,  if  un- 


THE  FUTUKE  323 

consciously,  religious.  It  would  be  most  unfortunate  if 
such  qualities  and  satisfactions  should  be  limited  to  a  few 
specialists.  Their  leadership  in  human  progress  will  avail, 
only  if  the  average  man,  whatever  the  degree  of  his  en- 
lightenment, has  a  child-like  faith  in  the  God  who  is  back 
of  all  experience,  the  sense  of  a  great  purpose,  a  feeling 
that  he  is  engaged  in  an  enterprise  in  which  all  his  in- 
stincts may  find  expression,  and  on  whose  outcome  depend 
the  issues  of  his  own  and  other  lives,  present  and  to  be. 

Of  the  social  value  of  such  an  attitude  there  can  be  no 
question.  Without  it,  as  recent  events  have  shown,  the 
structure  of  human  society  lacks  the  cement  which  will 
hold  it  together.  Let  me  again  emphasize  what  this  means, 
from  the  standpoint  of  Biology.  Whatever  is  of  perma- 
nent value  to  society  represents  a  successful  adjustment 
of  the  human  organism  to  its  environment.  Religious 
faith  is  true  because  it  is  necessary.  It  constitutes  the 
highest  form  of  man's  adaptation  to  the  Universe.  We 
know  that  the  world  is  a  Cosmos  rather  than  a  Chaos, 
because  no  other  attitude  of  mind  will  enable  the  race  to 
survive. 

As  we  look  backward  over  the  centuries,  and  forward 
to  the  future  of  the  race,  we  may  note  certain  features 
that  are  bright  with  promise.  On  the  highway  of  Human- 
ity, the  marks  of  direction  and  progress  which  I  distin- 
guish are  (1)  the  lengthening  of  human  life;  (2)  the  eco- 
nomic emancipation  of  the  individual,  with  its  outcome 
in  the  democratic  movement;  and  (3)  the  growth  of  soli- 
darity, with  the  corresponding  change  in  ethical  standards 
and  release  of  human  powers. 

1.  Our  forefathers  lived  under  the  constant  shadow  of 
disease  and  death.  When  we  consider  the  dangers  of 
childbirth,  the  high  infant  mortality,  the  short  average 
length  of  life,  the  constant  depletion  of  vitality  through 
malaria  and  other  ailments,  the  epidemics  which  swept 
over  the  civilized  world,  the  prevalence  of  war  and  famine, 
we  find  an  explanation  of  the  atmosphere  of  fear  and  gloom 


324  CHAOS  OR  COSMOS? 

so  largely  characteristic  of  human  history.  This  attitude 
was  reflected  in  religion.  Even  the  Christian  carved  the 
skull  and  cross-bones  on  the  graves  of  the  departed,  as  a 
reminder  of  mortality.  Man's  earthly  life  was  a  vale  of 
tears,  a  period  of  trial  and  probation.  His  aim  was  not 
to  improve  conditions,  but  to  escape  the  punishment  of 
guilt,  and  win  the  real  life  which  was  to  begin  in  an  es- 
sentially different  existence. 

The  recent  conflict  may  have  temporarily  wiped  out  the 
world's  surplus.  The  shadows  of  war,  famine  and  plague 
are  still  upon  us.  But  we  have  come  to  realize  that  they 
are  cast  by  clouds  of  man's  own  making,  which  in  time  may 
be  dispelled.  Under  normal  world  conditions,  the  situation 
is  vastly  different  from  that  of  even  two  generations  ago. 
To  detect  the  change,  let  us  for  the  moment  eliminate  the 
War,  and  step  backward  to  1912,  or  forward  to  1932. 
We  live,  as  Patten  says,  in  an  economic  era  of  surplus 
rather  than  of  deficit.^  With  the  increase  of  the  world's 
food  supply  and  the  improvements  in  transportation  and 
exchange,  the  danger  of  starvation  has  been  eliminated 
from  civilized  countries.  We  are  learning  how  to  escape 
the  handicaps  of  disease  and  malnutrition.  Human  life 
is  free  to  round  out  its  development  For  those  whose 
income  matches  the  cost  of  living,  death  is  no  longer  a  fre- 
quent and  ever-expected  visitor.  And  these  outward 
changes  are  reflected  in  our  attitude.  The  atmosphere  of 
modem  life,  at  its  best,  is  one  of  cheerfulness,  of  enjoy- 
ment, of  eager  striving.  We  are  coming  to  think,  with 
Jesus,  in  terms  of  Life  rather  than  of  Death.  We  live  in 
the  present,  and  look  on  a  future  life  as  the  continuation 
rather  than  the  antithesis  of  the  present.  This  change 
has  brought  us  closer  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  which 
we  have  seen  reason  to  claim  as  the  true  spirit  of  the  Uni- 
verse. It  is  aiding  us  in  the  great  task  to  which  we  are 
set,  of  making  men,  of  developing  the  possibilities  inherent 
in  human  life. 
'  Simon  N.  Patten,  "New  Basis  of  Civilization,  1907. 


THE  FUTUEE  326 

2.  The  most  striking  movement  in  the  history  of  the 
last  few  centuries  is  the  emancipation  of  the  individual. 
Slavery  broke  down,  largely  because  slave  labor  was  so  in- 
efficient that  it  could  not  compete  with  free  labor.  Autoc- 
racy in  industry  is  giving  way  for  the  same  reason.  The 
employer  who  must  bait  or  drive  his  workmen,  cannot 
compete  with  one  whose  workmen  are  conscious  partners 
in  the  enterprise.  The  world-wide  revolutionary  movement 
of  the  past  few  years,  though  its  outcome  in  Russia  has 
been  the  reverse  of  democracy,  represents  the  determina- 
tion of  the  unskilled  or  semi-skilled  laborer  to  assert  his 
own  will  and  express  his  own  personality.  It  is  just  these 
classes  whose  instincts  have  been  repressed  or  distorted. 
However  costly  the  social  experiments  which  this  new  free- 
dom may  bring  in  its  train,  the  net  result  of  the  change 
must  be  the  humanizing  of  industrial  relations,  and  a 
development  of  latent  and  hitherto  unsuspected  capacities 
in  the  individual.  The  emancipation  of  woman  represents 
a  movement  in  the  same  direction. 

Democracy  is  giving  us  a  new  viewpoint.  In  our  the- 
ories of  social  organization  and  activity,  we  have  not  only 
ceased  to  talk  about  the  divine  right  of  kings,  but  we  have 
ceased  to  talk  about  the  right  of  the  few  to  rule  by  virtue 
of  their  material  wealth.  Law  and  justice  begin  to  register 
a  change  of  emphasis  from  property  rights  to  human  rights, 
from  privileged  groups  to  society  taken  as  a  whole.  We 
test  gituations  and  remedies  by  their  effect  on  individual 
meA  and  women.  Charity  is  coming  to  merge  into  a  larger 
social  service,  whose  aim  is  not  a  dole  to  the  unfortunate, 
but  the  cure  of  conditions  which  have  proved  a  handicap 
to  normal  living.  Our  treatment  of  criminals  is  no  longer 
pimitive  but  corrective. 

Education  is  feeling  the  effect  of  the  same  impetus.  Free 
instruction  of  all  children  has  come  to  be^an  accepted  func- 
tion of  the  state.  The  age  of  compulsory  school  attendance 
is  constantly  rising.  The  modern  teacher  does  not  aim  to 
give  a  modicum  of  compressed  information,  but  to  develop 


326  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

the  personality  of  the  child,  and  fit  him  to  take  part  in 
the  complex  reactions  and  activities  of  adult  life.  Repres- 
sion is  giving  place  to  the  cultivation  of  self-expression, 
and  a  much  more  normal  personality  is  the  result.  The 
spirit  of  Democracy  is  forcing  a  change  in  our  conception 
of  secondary  education.  Hitherto  this  has  heen  thought  of 
as  the  preparation  of  the  favored  few  to  enjoy  the  perqui- 
sites of  leisure,  while  the  mass,  if  trained  at  all,  were 
trained  as  artisans  to  do  the  work  of  the  world.  The  new 
Pedagogy  looks  on  all  secondary  education  as  vocational. 
Each  youth,  whatever  his  parentage  or  his  inherited  ca- 
pacity, is  to  he  fitted  to  meet  the  responsihilities  of  citizen- 
ship, and  the  equally  exacting  demands  of  modem  indus- 
try. The  aim  is  to  develop  initiative  rather  than 
conformity,  resourcefulness  in  new  emergencies  in  place 
of  a  narrowly  specialized  skill,  an  appreciation  of  life  and 
history  rather  than  a  narrowly  classical  culture. 

3.  The  Industrial  Era  has  brought  a  new  social  soli- 
darity. In  place  of  a  society  where  the  average  family 
produced  all  the  necessities  of  life,  and  was  relatively 
independent  of  other  families,  we  have  a  society  whose 
members  are  engaged  in  specialized  occupations,  and  de- 
pendent on  one  another  for  the  supplying  of  their  needs. 
*'In  a  civilized  country,"  writes  an  efficiency  engineer,  "we 
are  all  buying  and  selling  service.  .  .  .  Likewise  our  value 
to  the  community  is  measured  by  the  service  we  render."  * 

In  former  times,  the  Christian  virtues  expressed  and  cul- 
tivated tended  to  be  those  of  a  narrow  individualism.  With 
the  growing  inter-dependence  of  modem  life,  we  are  com- 
ing to  appreciate  Jesus'  principle  that  the  individual  can 
reach  his  highest  development  only  through  association. 
The  virtues  we  cultivate  are  social  virtues.  In  order  to 
live  together  and  carry  forward  our  common  tasks,  we 
need  such  qualities  as  consideration,  honesty,  justice,  loy- 
alty, social  responsibility,  and  the  spirit  of  service.  Law 
and  government  rest  today  on  this  foundation,  as  do  trade 

"H.  L.  Gantt,  Indust.  Leadership,  1916,  18. 


THE  FUTUEE  327 

and  banking.  Practices  which  were  regarded  without 
scruple,  even  a  generation  ago,  bankers  and  business  men 
now  seek  to  purge  from  their  ranks. 

We  are  beginning  to  look  on  Industry  as  a  form  of 
mutual  service.  The  organization  of  labor  represents  the 
socializing  of  the  laborer,  not  merely  in  his  recognition  of 
group  instincts  and  desires,  but  in  the  responsbility  for 
production  which  the  most  advanced  labor  groups  are  com- 
ing to  assume.  The  new  principle  of  compulsory  insur- 
ance, by  which  the  cost  of  accident  (and  to  some  extent  of 
sickness,  unemployment  and  old  age),  is  borne  by  the  in- 
dustry as  a  whole,  is  bringing  to  the  employer  a  new  re- 
sponsibility for  the  conditions  under  which  production  is 
carried  on.  It  is  in  his  daily  tasks  that  man  chiefly  finds 
and  develops  his  personality.  Relieved  in  a  measure  from 
the  incubus  of  industrial  fear,  living  under  wholesome 
conditions,  inspired  by  a  share  in  the  direction  of  indus- 
trial processes,  and  with  the  machine  as  a  servant  to  re- 
lease him  from  drudgery,  it  will  be  possible  for  the  hand- 
worker to  recover  the  sense  of  joy  in  labor,  the  pride  of 
craftsmanship,  the  full  expression  of  his  instincts  which 
is  essential  to  normal  human  development.  The  short- 
comings of  our  industrial  era — ^the  poverty,  the  over- 
crowding, the  glaring  inequalities,  which  to  a  large  extent 
may  be  regarded  as  accidents,  due  to  the  hasty  and  imper- 
fect adjustment  of  Society  to  new  conditions — should  not 
blind  us  to  the  moral  possibilities  in  social  solidarity, 
which  we  have  hardly  begun  to  realize. 

The  growth  of  national  inter-dependence  is  likewise 
breaking  down  many  barriers,  and  raising  ethical  stand- 
ards. The  predatory  nation  is  no  longer  regarded  as  an 
adventurer  who  needs  no  other  credentials  than  success,  but 
as  an  outlaw.  When  we  compare  the  recent  world  conflict 
with  the  Thirty  Years  War,  for  example,  we  realize  the 
change  three  hundred  years  have  brought.  Motives  and 
methods  of  warfare  which  once  were  taken  as  a  matter  of 
couxee,  now  are  condemned  by  the  conscience  of  the  world. 


338  CHAOS  OE  COSMOS? 

iN'ations  are  still  tempted  to  exploit  weaker  peoples.  But 
the  unfavorable  reactions  of  those  exploited,  and  the  growth 
of  nationalist  movements,  are  setting  fatal  limits  to  the 
power  of  the  strong.  Kace  prejudice  yields  slowly.  Yet 
even  this  may  be  softened  by  acquaintance  and  sympathy, 
and  dissolved  by  the  principle  of  common  interest,  which, 
in  the  closely-knit  world  of  modem  intercourse,  prevents 
any  race  from  rising  to  a  permanently  higher  economic  and 
moral  level  than  that  of  the  other  races  with  which  it  is  in 
contact.  The  raising  of  belated  races  through  the  guidance 
and  encouragement  of  those  more  fortunate,  presents  a 
well  nigh  limitless  field  for  future  human  development. 

We  have  found  the  world  not  a  Chaos,  but  a  unified 
and  ordered  Cosmos,  to  whose  physical  and  moral  laws  man 
must  adapt  himself,  and  whose  possibilities  he  may  help 
make  real.  To  belong  to  such  a  Cosmos  makes  life  su- 
premely worth  living,  whatever  its  incidents  or  accidents. 
To  discover  the  laws  of  a  Christian  Universe  is  our  duty 
and  our  right.  Th©  highest  and  most  comprehensive  of 
all  vocations  is  to  be  a  partner  with  God  in  the  making 
of  men. 


APPENDICES 


APPENDIX  A. 


INDEX  TO  BIBLE  REFEREN^CES  IN  CHAPTER  I. 


References  are  to  the  Serial  Footnotes. 
Matthew  4:4   17      Matthew 


4:8-11    128 

5:3 28,  148 

5:4    64 

5:5   157 

5:6   46 

5:7     53,  113 

5:8    47,  102 

5:9    52 

5:10-12     28,     50 

5:13-16     69,  111 

5:17-20    45 

5:21-22    51,  116 

5:21-26    121 

5:21-37    7,  36,     71 

5:23-24    48 

5:25-26    52 

5:27-28    8 

5:27-32     47,  102 

5:38-42    71,  101,  121 

5:43-48    71,  101,  122 

5:44-45     55,  107 

5:46-47    145 

5:48    45 

6:1-18    7,  9,  123 

6:6    108 

6:7    105 

6:8 106 

6:9-10    42,  95,  104 

6:9-13 114 

6:11    11 

6:13   14 

6:14-15    53,  113 

6:16-18    32 

6:19-20     126 

6:21    127 

6:24   133 

6:25    17 

6:25-34     ....43,  55,  60,     93* 
6:31-33    120 


6:33    27,  85 

7:1-5    112 

7:7-11 55,  87,  106 

7:12-14    115 

7:15-27     16,  88 

7:24-27    161 

8:5-13     152 

8:10-12    77 

8:20    129 

9:10-13    65,  153 

9:14-15    32 

9:22     92 

9:27-30    63,  92 

9:36     61 

10:1     91 

10:7-8     91,  95 

10:19-20     15 

10:21-22    50,  51 

10:28     18 

10:29-31 79 

10:32-33    44 

10:37    155 

10:38    50 

10:39     119 

10:40     44 

10:42    81,  94 

11:5 59 

11:11     22,  37 

11:12    23 

11:16-19    31 

11:25-26    108 

11:28-30   58,  96 

12:1-8    75 

12:12    80 

12:22-32    72 

12:28   22 

12:32-35  86 

12:33-37    110 

13:3-9    39 


331 


332 


APPENDIX  A 


Matthew 

13:18-30    29,  39 

13:22    131 

13:31-32    25,  38 

13:33    38 

13:37-38    24 

13:44-46    26 

13:52    33 

16:24   68 

16:26    80 

17:24-27     34,  74 

18:1-4    148 

18:1-9    71 

18:5-6     76,  81 

18:7-14    103,  111 

18:10 56 

18:12-14    76 

18:14    56 

18:15-18    100,  159 

18:19-20    6 

18:21-35    113 

19:3-12     102 

19:8    36 

20:1-15    10 

20:21    4 

21:12-13    45 

21:33-43    160 

22:11-13     159 

22:37-38    54 

22:39     117 

23:1-36 48,  71 

23:8-11    146 

23:12     149 

25:14-30 

41,  85,  137,  138,  158,  159 

25:21    49 

25:31-46    71,  94,  159 

25:35     57 

25:36    59,  62 

25:40    81 

25:45    66 

26:6-13    143 

26:29    30 

28:18-20    89,  151 

Mark  1:15   21 

1:36-38    35 

2:15    35 

2:21     37 

2:23-28    7,  34,  75 

3:1-6    34 

3:31-35    155 

4:25     40 

4:26-29    25,  39 

5:22-34    62 


Mark 

5:24    35 

6:3    58 

6:31     1 

6:37-38    99 

6:41    11 

7:1-23    34 

7:6-13     48 

7:14-23     8 

8:2    57 

8:36-37    132 

9:1    30 

9:29     12 

9:35    149 

9:37     44,  66 

9:41     120 

10:2-12     102 

10:17-25    134 

10:28-30    156 

10:31     149 

10:42-45    147 

11:20-24     90,  93 

11:24-25    109 

11:25    100 

12:18-23    3 

12:24-25    20 

12:26-27    19 

12:37     35 

13:11     84 

Luke  4:16-21   73 

5:4-7    99 

5:33-39    34 

6:20    59 

6:27-36    122 

6:29-30    121 

6:31    115 

6:36     53 

6:37-38    112,  120 

7:13    64 

7:18-23    73 

7:28    147 

7:36-50 34,  65 

8:26-37    135 

10:7    136 

10:9    42,  91 

10:11    21 

10:17-18    30 

10:19    90 

10:22     44 

10:25-37    94,  118,  152 

10:38-42     130,  140,  150 

11:1-4    114 

11:20   42 

11:33-36    Ill 


APPENDIX  A  333 

Luke  John 

11:37-41  8  5:28-29  82 

12:4-7  60  5:40  13 

12:13-21  124  6:8-9  99 

12:15  17,125  6:15  35 

12:16-21  144  6:63  18 

12:35-48  49,  142  7:17  88 

13:1-5  98  8:32  33 

13:29-30  151,160  8:33-44  77 

14:7-11  149  8:51  19 

14:12-14  145,  153  9:1-39  63,  97 

14:33  134  10:10  13,  31 

15:1-10  78  11:23-26  19 

15:1-32  67  11:33-36  64 

16:1-9  143  12:12-19  35 

16:10-12  141  12:24  39 

16:16  23  12:25-26  68 

16:19-31  82,144  12:32  151 

17:1  29  13:1-15  154 

17:2  56  13:34-35  117 

17:7-10  139  14:1-3  19 

17:20-21  22  14:9  44 

18:1-8  106  14:12  90 

18:9-14  108  14:13  109 

18:15-17  56  14:15-20  70 

19:5-7 153  14:19  13 

19:12-27  41,158  14:21  54,  88 

20:9-18  161  14:27  60 

21:27-28  30  15:1-8  83 

22:24-27  55  15:7  109 

22:42  108  15:11  31 

23:34  107,108  16:7-13  33,  84 

23:46  108  17:11  70 

john^3^:3-5  ...............  86  l^i^  ;;;; ;;;/,\[[][\\  70 

4.'.q    iKo  19:23     34 

4.21.24 6  1^=26-27    150 

4:27  . ::::::::::: : : :  150  20:21-23 100 

5:17    58      Acts  1:6    4 

6:17-47    44 

6:24    19     Romans  16:13 156 


APPENDIX  B. 

EECENT  PEOGBESS  IN   COSMOGONY. 

The  sky  may  be  divided  into  two  general  regions:  the 
Milky  Way,  disk-like  in  form,  but  with  irregular  pro- 
tuberances, a  "heterogeneous  assemblage"  of  gaseous 
clouds,  open  clusters  and  star  streams;  and  the  extra- 
galactic  region,  sparsely  filled  with  open  and  globular 
clusters  and  spiral  nebulae. 

According  to  Arrhenius,^  fine  particles  of  matter,  car- 
rying a  negative  electric  charge,  are  driven  out  by  the  sun 
and  other  hot  bodies.  The  cold  and  comparatively  motion- 
less nebulae,  which  occupy  a  large  portion  of  the  galactic 
region  (the  dark  nebulous  tracts  first  discovered  by  Bar- 
nard), collect  most  of  this  cosmic  dust.  The  resulting  ac- 
cumulation of  negative  electricity  causes  electrons  to  be 
ejected,  which  render  luminous  the  gaseous  envelope  of 
the  nebula.  Atoms  of  the  lighter  gases  are  also  carried 
out  into  space.  The  outer  layer  of  the  nebula,  thus  rare- 
fied, is  supplied  with  fresh  material  from  the  interior, 
until  this  in  turn  becomes  depleted,  and  the  nebula  con- 
denses into  a  star  cluster  or  sun.  On  this  theory,  inter- 
stellar space  is  constantly  being  fed  with  star  dust,  which 
in  time  will  be  gathered  by  existing  stars  or  formed  into 
new  ones.  Through  the  balance  of  attractive  and  repul- 
sive forces,  the  evolution  of  the  heavenly  bodies  will  con- 
tinue in  an  endless  cycle. 

Jeans  has  approached  the  problem  from  the  behavior 
of  gaseous  masses.    His  general  conclusion  is  as  follows:^ 

*  World  in  the  Making,  1908. 

'J.  H.  Jeans,  Proh's  of  Cosmogony  and  Stellar  Dynamics,  1919, 
288. 

334 


APPENDIX  B  335 

'^Some  hundreds  of  millions  of  years  ago  all  the  stars 
within  our  galactic  universe  formed  a  single  mass  of  ex- 
cessively tenuous  gas  in  slow  rotation.  As  imagined  by 
Laplace,  this  mass  contracted  owing  to  loss  of  energy  by 
radiation,  and  so  increased  its  angular  velocity  until  it 
assumed  a  lenticular  shape.  .  .  .  After  this,  further  con- 
traction was  a  sheer  mathematical  impossibility  and  the 
system  had  to  expand.  The  mechanism  of  expansion  was 
provided  by  matter  being  thrown  off  from  the  sharp  edge 
of  the  lenticular  figure,  the  lenticular  centre  now  forming 
the  nucleus,  and  the  thrown-off  matter  forming  the  arms, 
of  a  spiral  nebula  of  the  normal  type.  The  long  filaments 
of  matter  which  constituted  the  arms,  being  gravitationally 
unstable,  first  formed  into  chains  of  condensations  about 
nuclei,  and  ultimately  formed  detached  masses  of  gas. 
With  continued  shrinkage,  the  temperature  of  these  masses 
increased  until  a  large  proportion  of  them  broke  up  by  fis- 
sion into  binary  systems.  The  majority  of  the  stars  broke 
away  from  their  neighbors  and  so  formed  a  cluster  of 
irregularly  moving  stars — our  present  galactic  universe, 
in  which  the  flattened  shape  of  the  original  nebula  may 
still  be  traced  in  the  concentration  about  the  galactic  plane, 
while  the  original  motion  along  the  nebular  arms  still  per- 
sists in  the  form  of  ^star-streaming.'  In  some  cases  a  pair 
or  small  group  of  stars  failed  to  get  clear  of  one  another's 
gravitational  attractions  and  remain  describing  orbits  about 
one  another  as  wide  binaries  or  multiple  stars.  The  stars 
which  were  formed  last,  the  present  B-type  [Helium] 
stars,  have  been  unusually  immune  from  disturbance  by 
their  neighbors,  partly  because  they  were  born  when 
adjacent  stars  had  almost  ceased  to  interfere  with  one 
another,  partly  because  their  exceptionally  large  mass 
minimised  the  effect  of  such  interference  as  may  have 
occurred;  consequently  they  remain  moving  in  the  plane 
in  which  they  were  formed,  many  of  them  still  constitut- 
ing closely  associated  groups  of  stars — ^the  moving  star- 
clusters." 


336  APPE]!n)IX  B 

Eussell's  two-branch  theory  and  Eddington's  recent 
studies  have  thrown  new  light  on  the  life  history  of  the 
stars.  In  the  diffuse  or  youthful  stage,  the  effective  tem- 
perature rises  as  the  surface  contracts,  the  total  luminosity 
remaining  unaltered.  The  star  is  first  red,  then  in  suc- 
cession orange,  yellow  and  white.  The  radiating  surface 
of  the  Hydrogen  stars  has  a  temperature  of  about  11,000° 
C,  and  that  of  the  Helium  stars  15,000°.  Only  the  larg- 
est or  "giant"  stars  are  sufficiently  massive  to  reach  this 
point.  The  temperature  at  the  interior  must  be  millions 
of  degrees.'  The  greatest  effective  temperature  is  reached 
when  the  density  is  from  one  fifth  to  two  fifths  that  of 
water.  From  this  point  the  temperature  declines,  and  the 
luminosity  falls  off  rapidly,  the  star  passing  through  a 
descending  series  of  yellow,  orange,  red,  until  it  becomes 
dark  and  cold.  Differences  in  brightness,  as  well  as  in 
the  maximum  stage  of  evolution  attained,  must  be  at- 
tributed to  differences  in  mass.  The  range  in  mass  is  re- 
markably small.  To  reach  the  hottest  stage,  a  star  must 
be  two  and  a  half  times  as  massive  as  the  sun,  which  shows 
at  present  about  6000°,  and  may  at  one  time  have  reached 
9000°.  Some  few  are  known  which  are  perhaps  fifty 
times  as  large  as  the  sun.  A  body  with  mass  less  than  one 
seventh  that  of  the  sun  would  never  reach  3000°,  the 
lowest  temperature  admissible  if  it  is  to  shine  as  a  star. 
"No  star  as  small  as  this  has  yet  been  found.  A  mass  range 
of  1  to  3  would  include  five  sixths  of  all  the  known  stars. 
Eddington's  conclusion  is  that  most  of  the  material  in 
the  universe  has  been  aggregated  into  stellar  bodies  of 
fairly  uniform  size.  A  star  much  larger  than  the  aver- 
age would  tend  to  be  unstable;  the  radiation  pressure 

»H.  N.  Russell,  Pub's  of  Astron.  Soc.  of  Pac.,  Aug.,  1919.  He 
suggests  that  hitherto  unsuspected  forms  of  energy  may  be  devel- 
oped at  such  temperatures,  giAring  the  giant  stars  a  much  longer 
life  than  the  ordinary  laws  of  matter  would  allow.  Cf.  note  by 
Shapley,  id.,  Jime,  1919,  and  Eddington,  Observatory,  Oct.,  1919. 
Russell's  original  papers  are  in  Observatory,  36,  324,  1913;  37, 
165,  1914. 


APPENDIX  B  337 

would  become  so  great  that  gravitation  could  not  hold  it 
together.* 

The  Carnegie  observatory  on  Mount  Wilson,  in  south- 
em  California,  has  recently  used  its  60-inch  reflector  for 
epoch-making  discoveries  as  to  the  extra-galactic  region 
and  its  relation  to  the  Milky  Way.^  Dr.  Scares,  the  di- 
rector of  the  photometric  division,  was  able  to  establish 
definite  color  and  magnitude  scales  for  the  fainter  stars. 
A  type  of  variable  stars,  with  a  peculiar  pulsating  light, 
the  Cepheid  variables,  have  long  puzzled  astronomers. 
They  are  usually  associated  with^  the  equally  puzzling 
globular  clusters,  of  which  some  86  are  now  known.  Work- 
ing from  the  observed  similarity  of  these  Cepheid  variables 
in  magnitude,  spectrum  and  color,  Shapley  was  able  to 
determine  their  relative  distances,  and  so  the  distances  of 
the  globular  clusters  containing  them.  The  results  are  so 
amazing  that  it  takes  one  a  little  time  to  catch  one's 
breath.  The  Galaxy,  which  we  used  to  place  at  a  maxi- 
mum distance  of  about  3000  light  years,  now  is  extended 
in  some  directions  to  between  120,000  and  180,000  light 
years.  Globular  clusters  extend  still  further.  While  the 
nearest  is  only  21,000  light  years  from  us,  the  most  distant 
known  at  present  (New  General  Catalogue  7006)  is  at 
a  distance  of  220,000  light  years.  The  spiral  nebulae, 
of  which  Keeler  and  Perrine,  at  t^e  Lick  observatory, 
detected  about  half  a  million,  are  comparable  in  distance. 

The  globular  clusters  occupy  a  wedge-shaped  region  at 
one  side  of  the  Milky  Way,  and  divided  into  about  equal 
parts  by  the  plane  of  the  Galaxy.  They  appear  to  be  mov- 
ing toward  the  Milky  Way,  which  they  closely  approach, 
the  nearest  globular  clusters  being  in  general  the  least  con- 
densed. The  spiral  nebulae,  on  the  contrary,  are  moving 
away  from  the  Galaxy  with  great  velocity,  and  come  near- 

*A.  S.  Eddington,  Soientia,  23,  9,  1918. 

■The  work  of  the  newly  installed  100-inch  reflector  is  being 
watched  by  the  astronomical  world  with  keen  anticipation. 


338  APPEITDIX  B 

est  to  it  on  the  opposite  side.  Here  also  are  most  of  the 
open  clusters  found  outside  of  the  Milky  Way.^  Shap- 
ley's  provisional  hypothesis  is  that  "the  discoidal  galactic 
system  originated  from  the  combination  of  spheroidal  star 
clusters  and  has  long  been  growing  into  its  present  enor- 
mous size  at  their  expense.  The  evidence  further  suggests 
that  the  galactic  system  now  moves  as  a  whole  through 
space,  driving  the  spiral  nebulsB  before  it  and  absorbing 
and  disintegrating  isolated  stellar  groups.  Apparently  the 
suggested  interpretation  requires  that  two  types  of  sidereal 
organization  prevail  generally  throughout  extra-galactic 
space :  spiral  nebulae,  and  stars  of  known  types  assembled 
for  the  most  part  into  globular  clusters;  and  while  the 
globular  clusters  now  known  are,  at  least  potentially,  mem- 
bers of  the  galactic  system,  the  spiral  nebulae  are  not 
members,  being  rather  general  inhabitants  of  extra-galactic 
space.  The  hypothesis  demands  that  gravitation  be  the 
ruling  power  of  stars  and  star  clusters,  and  that  a  repul- 
sive force,  radiation  pressure  or  an  equivalent,  predomi- 
nates in  the  resultant  behavior  of  spiral  nebulae."  It  is 
possible  that  spiral  nebulae  represent  a  failure  to  form 
stars  by  condensation,  because  of  an  excess  of  material. 
"The  mean  diameter  of  the  proposed  system  appears  to  be 
at  least  300,000  light  years ;  its  most  conspicuous  feature 
is  the  equatorial  segment,  which  apparently  is  thickly 
populated  with  stars  throughout  its  whole  extent.  From 
this  viewpoint  the  Milky  Way  is  mainly  a  phenomenon  of 
depth."  '^ 

"In  both  cases  the  radial  velocity  may  be  only  apparent.  See 
Russell,  Ap.  J.,  53,  1,  1921. 

'  Studies  based  on  Colors  and  Magnitudes  in  Stellar  Clusters,  14th 
paper,  Ap.  J.,  50,  107,  1919;  N.  Aoad.  of  Sciences,  4,  224,  1918. 


APPENDIX  a 

HABITABLE  PLANETS  AMONG  THE  STARS  ? 

The  only  stars  to  be  considered  are  those  of  the  Solar 
typa  If  we  assume  that  there  are  1000  million  bright 
stars,  and  that  one  fourth  belong  to  this  class,  we  have  250 
million  specimens  to  consider.  According  to  Eddington's 
theory,  most  of  these  will  have  a  mass  comparable  with 
the  sun.  Binary  stars  must  be  excluded,  as  subject  to  in- 
tense tides;  Aitken  estimates  these  at  two  fifths  of  the 
entire  number.  Conditions  are  likely  to  be  equally  un- 
stable for  multiple  stars,  and  those  associated  with  nebulae 
and  globular  clusters.  Since  our  entire  region  is  galactic, 
we  need  no  longer  follow  Wallace  in  excluding  the  stars  in 
the  Milky  Way.  Confining  attention  to  open  clusters  like 
our  own,  we  are  left  with  perhaps  50  million  stars.  The 
question  is.  How  many  of  these  have  developed  planetary 
systems  ?  And  that  brings  us  to  the  perennial  problem  of 
the  way  planetary  systems  are  formed. 

In  order  to  advance  at  all,  let  us  adopt  the  late  Profes- 
sor BarrelFs  modification  of  the  planetesimal  hypothesis.^ 
According  to  this  theory,  a  star  decidedly  larger  than  our 
sun  approached  it  and  raised  large  tidal  protuberances, 
which  shot  off  one  or  two  streams  of  matter.  The  attrac- 
tion of  the  passing  body  gave  to  the  parts  of  this  material 
a  direct  revolution  around  the  sun,  the  whole  taking  the 
form  of  a  spiral  nebula.  The  arms  of  this  nebula  included 
several  large  nuclei,  which  ultimately  formed  the  planets. 
The  rest  of  the  material  condensed  rapidly  into  smaller 
solid  bodies,  called  planetesimak.     Over  800  such  bodies 

^Jos.  Barrel!,  in  Evol,  of  the  Earth,  1918,  lecture  1.     A  similar 
view  is  given  by  Harold  Jeffreys,  Sd.  Prog.,   12,  52,   1917. 

339 


340  APPENDIX  C 

have  been  discovered.  Most  of  them  however  were  picked 
up  by  the  larger  nuclei  in  their  subsequent  development. 
The  planets  grew  very  much  by  these  accretions,  and  at  the 
same  time  reduced  the  eccentricity  of  their  orbits. 

If  such  an  accident  has  occurred  in  the  life  of  one 
Solar  star,  it  may  occur  in  others.  The  possibility  of 
actual  collision  is  practically  negligible.  Even  close  en- 
counters must  be  of  rare  occurrence.  At  the  average  speed 
of  26  miles  per  second,  Kapteyn's  estimate  of  stellar  den- 
sity requires  100,000  years  merely  to  cover  the  distance 
from  one  star  to  another.  The  chance  of  close  approach 
for  any  star  has  been  estimated  at  one  in  1800,  in  a 
period  of  a  billion  years;  or  one  chance  in  18,000,  if  we 
take  the  100  million  years  assigned  for  the  existence  of 
life  on  our  earth.  This  would  reduce  our  50  million 
available  stars  to  a  little  over  2000.  Of  the  encounters 
which  might  take  place,  only  a  very  small  proportion  would 
duplicate  the  conditions  of  the  hypothesis,  as  to  the  mass 
of  the  approaching  star,  the  closeness  of  approach,  the 
amount  of  material  driven  out  by  tidal  action,  and  the 
resulting  motions  in  the  spiral  nebula.  Of  the  planetary 
systems  thus  formed,  not  all  would  furnish  a  planet 
with  the  conditions  found  on  our  earth.  Any  other  set 
of  assumptions  would  be  likely  to  bring  us  much  the  same 
result. 


APPENDIX  D. 

THE  EMERGENCE  OF  A  NEW  SPECIES. 

A  new  species  arises  in  a  number  of  different  ways.  It 
may  represent  a  blending  of  the  factors  present  in  the  two 
types  that  are  crossed,  as  in  the  loganberry.  Burbank 
states  that  in  Central  America  the  Western  Blackcap  and 
Eastern  Red  Raspberry  sometimes  form  a  natural  cross. 
More  frequently  the  blended  factors  in  the  hybrid  will 
segregate  in  their  progeny,  and  appear  in  various  new 
combinations,  which  breed  true.  These  form  the  raw 
material  out  of  which  the  breeder  makes  other  desired 
combinations.  Most  of  our  new  domestic  species  have  been 
formed  in  this  way,  and  something  of  the  same  process 
must  be  going  on  in  wild  forms.  Factors  may  be  cumula- 
tive in  their  effect,  causing  the  gradual  accentuation  of 
certain  features,  as  in  l!^ilsson-Ehle^s  work  with  oats,  two 
dark  browns  producing  a  blacker  pigment  than  one.  Smith 
in  Illinois  was  able  to  increase  or  diminish  the  protein- 
content  or  oil-content  of  maize,  and  Castle  the  color-mark- 
ings of  hooded  rats.  Again,  absolutely  new  factors  arise 
from  time  to  time.  Organisms  appear  which  differ  from 
their  parents,  perhaps  in  a  number  of  features.  The  mu- 
tation may  be  large,  as  in  the  sudden  appearance  of  the 
White  Plymouth  Kock  fowl,  in  1875.  It  may  be  exceed- 
ingly minute,  as  in  the  variations  of  the  fruit-fly  Dros(y- 
phila,  or  in  Jennings'  studies  of  the  rhizopod  Difflugia. 
The  mutation  may  represent  the  dropping  out  of  a  factor. 
The  essential  thing  is  the  obtaining  of  a  feature  which  has 
so  affected  the  germ  of  the  organism  that  it  will  be  in- 
herited, and  thus  become  available  for  breeding  and  fur- 
ther selection.  Commercial  breeders  are  constantly  on  the 
lookout  for  favorable  variations. 

341 


APPENDIX  E. 

CHEMISTRY  AND  THE  ORGANISM. 

The  chromosomes  of  the  germ-cell  nucleus  have  been 
found  to  segregate  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  the  hypo- 
thetical factors.  In  fact  Morgan,  in  his  study  of  linked 
factors  and  their  interference,  has  been  able  to  lay  off 
the  chromosomes  of  the  Drosophila  on  an  exact  linear 
scale.  His  preliminary  estimate  is  that  7500  different 
factors  are  involved,  for  the  four  chromosomes  of  this 
species.^  It  is  evident  that  chromatin  has  some  close  rela- 
tion to  heredity.  Some  biologists  question  whether  the 
chromosomes  themselves  are  to  be  considered  as  causes,  and 
the  seat  of  individual  "determiners,"  or  whether  they  are 
consequents  of  chemical  changes  in  the  germ-cell  as  a 
whole,  and  "a  useful  superficial  index"  of  such  changes. 

The  proteins,  starches  and  other  fundamental  constitu- 
ents of  the  cell,  show  a  composition  and  structure  that 
are  "peculiarly  and  specifically  modified  in  relation  to 
genus,  species,  variety,  sex,  individual  or  even  part  of  an 
individual."  ^  With  a  germ-plasm  of  such  molecular  com- 
plexity, it  is  easy  to  imagine  the  alteration  of  the  equilib- 
rium through  slight  changes  in  the  internal  or  external 
conditions  of  the  organism,  causing  the  "physico-chemical 
fatality"  of  normal  reproduction  to  give  place  to  mutations. 
The  probability  of  recombination  will  be  greatly  increased 
by  cross-fertilization. 

*T.  H.  Morgan,  Critique  of  the  Theory  of  Ewylution^  1916,  143. 

*E.  T.  Reichert,  Science,  40,  649,  1914.  The  species  relationships 
of  over  100  animals  were  accurately  determined  by  the  crystal 
structure  of  molecules  of  hemoglobin.  This  "individuality-diflferen- 
tlal"  must  be  reckoned  with  in  the  transplanting  of  tissues;  see  Leo 
Loeb,  Am,  Naturalist,  54,  pp.  45,  55,  1920. 

342 


APPENDIX  E  343 

Every  change  in  tbe  germ  cell,  as  reflected  in  the  altered 
form  and  behavior  of  the  organism,  must  be  considered  to 
be  due  to  some  physical  or  chemical  cause,  rather  than  to 
chanca  Experimental  work  has  shown  that  the  develop- 
ment of  inherited  characters  may  be  modified  by  changes 
in  light,  temperature,  food  and  moisture.  And  the  pro- 
duction of  new  characters  by  external  stimuli,  while  not 
yet  demonstrated,  has  reached  the  stage  of  circumstantial 
evidence.^ 

The  physico-chemical  nature  of  the  organism  is  reflected 
in  the  recent  literature  of  Biology.  D'Arcy  Wentworth 
Thompson,  for  example,  has  traced  the  part  played  by 
physical  stresses  in  the  interaction  of  growth  and  form.* 
E.  G.  Hopkins  emphasized  in  illuminating  detail  the  dy- 
namic side  of  biochemistry,  up  to  a  few  years  ago.^  The 
feeding  experiments  of  Mendel  and  Osborne  show  that,  of 
the  amino  acids  out  of  which  the  mammalian  proteins  are 
built,  lysine  is  essential  to  grbwth,  and  tryptophane  to  body 
maintenance.^  We  might  extend  almost  indefinitely  our 
examples  of  this  physico-chemical  approach  to  the  problem 
of  the  organism. 

*A  good  summary  will  be  found  in  E.  B.  Babcock  and  R.  E. 
Clausen,  Genetics  m  Bel.  to  Agricultwre,  1918,  21  if.  Ellsworth 
Huntington,  World-Power  cmd  Evolution,  1919,  chap.  9,  discusses 
variation  due  to  climatic  changes,  and  its  relation  to  geologic 
history. 

*  Growth  and  Form,  1917. 

"Nature,  92,  213,  1913. 

•Frank  P.  Underbill,  PTiysiol,  of  the  Ammo  Aoids,  1915. 


APPENDIX  F. 

THE  EVOLUTION   OF  THE  ORGANIC  MACHINE. 

The  earliest  stage  in  organic  evolution  is  that  of  Bac- 
terial Life.  Certain  types  of  bacteria,  still  present  in  the 
soil,  are  able,  under  the  influence  of  moderate  heat,  to 
capture  the  electrical  energy  of  chemical  elements.  Oxygen 
is  drawn  in  through  the  attraction  of  some  of  the  mole- 
cules of  the  cell.  By  means  of  certain  catalysts,  or  inter- 
mediate chemical  compounds,  the  ammonia  present  in  the 
soil  is  oxidized,  the  end  products  being  nitrous  acid,  water 
and  heat.  The  nitrous  acid  is  of  no  value  to  this  organ- 
ism, though  it  is  in  turn  oxidized  for  the  production  of 
energy  by  companion  bacteria  of  another  type.  But  the 
heat  liberated  supplies  the  energy  by  which  the  first  or- 
ganism, through  its  catalysts,  builds  up  its  own  cell  out 
of  ammonia,  carbon  dioxide  and  various  minerals.  Bac- 
teria which  are  able  to  work  without  free  oxygen  may 
represent  a  still  more  primitive  type. 

Step  by  step  new  molecules  were  formed,  which  made 
possible  the  performance  of  other  chemical  functions.  "New 
sources  of  chemical  energy  were  utilized,  such  as  iron  and 
sulphur  compounds.  In  later  stages,  many  of  the  bacteria 
became  parasitic,  depending  on  plants  or  animals  for  the 
elaboration  of  their  food  material.  Some  special  enzymes 
were  developed,  for  breaking  up  organic  compounds.  The 
organism  began  to  show  the  cell-wall,  nucleus  and  chromo- 
somes of  the  typical  cell.  For  millions  of  years,  however, 
the  simpler  forms  of  bacteria  were  the  earth's  only  inhabit- 
ants. Through  their  work  in  soil  formation,  and  the  pro- 
vision in  themselves  of  an  organic  food  supply,  they  pre- 
pared the  way  for  more  complex  energy  transformers. 

344 


APPENDIX  F  345 

A  second  but  still  extremely  primitive  stage  in  Evolu- 
tion is  that  of  the  Algae.  By  the  acquirement  of  chloro- 
phyll granules,  the  organism  is  able  to  capture  the  energy 
in  certain  of  the  sun's  rays.  This  is  used  to  break  up 
molecules  of  carbon  dioxide  and  water,  and  build  the 
deoxidized  carbon  and  hydrogen  atoms  into  the  energy- 
reserves  which  we  know  as  carbohydrates.  These  reserves 
are  later  oxidized,  to  supply  the  energy  needed  for  life 
processes.  "Thus  living  matter,"  as  Osbom  puts  it,  "util- 
izes the  energy  of  the  sun  to  draw  a  continuous  stream  of 
electric  energy  from  the  chemical  elements  in  the  earth, 
the  water,  and  the  atmosphere."  Many  of  the  algae  are 
floating  or  free  swimming.  They  constitute  with  bacteria 
the  food  supply  of  the  earliest  animals. 

The  world  of  Plants  represents  further  organizing  of 
this  original  function :  the  transformation  of  solar  energy 
by  means  of  chlorophyll.  "In  their  evolution,  while  there 
is  a  continuous  specialization  and  differentiation  of  the 
modes  of  obtaining  energy,  plants  may  not  attain  a  higher 
chemical  stage  than  that  observed  among  the  bacteria 
and  algae,  except  in  the  parasitic  forms  which  feed  both 
upon  plant  and  animal  compounds.  In  the  energy  which 
they  derive  from  the  soil  plants  continue  to  be  closely 
dependent  upon  bacteria,  because  they  derive  their  nitro- 
gen from  nitrates  generated  by  bacteria  and  absorbed  along 
with  water  by  the  roots.  In  reaching  out  into  the  air  and 
sunlight  the  chlorophyllic  organs  differentiate  into  the  mar- 
vellous variety  of  leaf  forms,  and  these  in  turn  are  sup- 
ported upon  stems  and  branches  which  finally  lead  into 
the  creation  of  woody  tissues  and  the  clothing  of  the  earth 
with  forests.  Through  the  specialization  of  leaves  in  con- 
nection with  the  germ-cells  flowers  are  developed,  and 
plants  establish  a  marvellous  series  of  balanced  relations 
with  their  life  environment,  first  with  the  developing  insect 
life,  and  finally  with  the  developing  bird  life."  ^ 

The  fourth  stage  is  that  of  Protozoa,  or  one-celled  ani- 

^Osborn,  op.  cit,  105. 


346  APPEKDIX  F 

mals,  which  normally  derive  their  energy  from  the  bacteria 
or  algse  on  which  they  feed.  The  utilization  of  these 
energy  stores  is  made  possible  by  their  equipment  with  the 
proper  enzymes  or  other  catalysts.  In  the  highest  types, 
such  as  Jennings'  Difflugm,  the  cell  shows  a  highly  com- 
plex organization,  and  is  protected  by  a  shell  of  cemented 
sand  granules.  The  organism  moves  about  in  the  water  in 
response  to  light  or  chemical  attraction,  and  shows  con- 
siderable power  of  experiment  and  discrimination. 

Metazoa,  or  many-celled  animals,  constitute  the  fifth 
stage.  Their  energy  supplies  continue  to  be  drawn  from 
other  organisms,  chiefly  from  green  plants. 

Fossil  remains  show  that  by  the  middle  of  the  Cambrian 
period,  perhaps  45  million  years  ago,  the  Invertebrates  had 
spread  over  practically  all  water  areas.  Their  adaptation 
to  various  conditions  of  life  "appears  to  have  been  governed 
by  mechanical  and  chemical  principles  fundamentally  sim- 
ilar to  those  observed  among  the  Protozoa,  but  distributed 
through  myriads  of  cells  and  highly  complicated  tissues 
and  organs,  instead  of  being  differentiated  within  a  single 
cell  as  in  the  ciliate  Protozoa.  Among  the  elaborate  func- 
tions thus  evolved,  showing  a  more  complicated  system  of 
action,  reaction,  and  interaction  with  the  environment  and 
within  the  organism,  were,  first,  a  more  efficient  locomo- 
tion in  the  quest  of  food,  in  the  capture  of  food,  and  in 
the  escape  from  enemies,  giving  rise  in  some  cases  to 
skeletal  structures  of  various  types ;  second,  the  evolution 
of  offensive  and  defensive  weapons  and  armature;  third, 
various  chemical  modes  of  offense  and  defense;  fourth, 
protection  and  concealment  by  methods  of  burrowing."  ^ 

We  now  reach  the  stage  of  Evolution,  where  "the  su- 
premely adaptable  Vertebrate  type  begins  to  dominate 
the  living  world,  overcoming  one  mechanical  difficulty  after 
another  as  it  passes  through  the  habitat  zones  of  water, 
land  and  air.  Adaptations  in  the  motions  necessary  for 
the  capture,  storage,  and  release  of  plant  and  animal 

•M,  119. 


appe:n^dix  f  347 

energy  continue  to  control  the  form  of  the  body  and  of  its 
appendages,  but  simultaneously  the  organism  through  me- 
chanical and  chemical  means  protects  itself  either  offen- 
sively or  defensively  to  reproduce  and  protect  its  kind."  ' 
Sense  organs  become  highly  developed,  and  the  parts  of  the 
organism  are  correlated  through  internal  secretions, 
enzymes,  and  the  fully  organized  nervous  system.  "In 
the  course  of  normal  physicochemical  environment,  of  nor- 
mal life  environment,  of  normal  individual  development, 
and  of  normal  selection  and  competition,  an  organism  will 
tend  to  more  or  less  closely  reproduce  its  normal  ancestral 
characters.  But  a  new  or  abnormal  physicochemical  in- 
truder either  into  the  enviroimient,  the  developing  individ- 
ual, the  heredity-chromatin  or  the  life  environment  may 
produce  a  new  or  abnormal  visible  character  type."  * 

*Id.y  152. 
*W.,  147. 


INDEX 


Abbott,  E.  v.,  155 

Absolute,  33,  65,  77,  160 

Accident  prevention,  121 

Acquired  characters,  69,  150 

Acquisitiveness,  200-201,  209 

Adaptation,  biological,  58-59, 
346-347 

Addams,  J.,  69,  127 

Adolpho  Stahl  Lectures,  44 

Advertising,  156 

^ther,  20,  23-24 

Agriculture,  beef  cattle,  95-96; 
dairy  cattle,  96-97;  honey,  98; 
wheat,  99;  corn,  100-101;  soil 
improvement,  101-102;  ethics 
of,  102-103;  rural  credits,  159; 
in  Germany,  233,  245,  248; 
Java,  276;  Natal,  278-280; 
among  Negroes,  291;  Inter- 
national Institute  of,  301 

Albany,  N.  Y.,  123 

Alcohol,  prohibition  movement, 
127 

Algse,  56,  345 

Algeciras,  Convention  of,  265, 
307 

Allen,  F.  J.,  50,  56 

Altruism,  defined,  133;  in  home, 
134-135;  church,  136;  fraterni- 
ties, 136;  labor  unions,  136- 
138;  patriotism,  139-140;  in- 
stinctive basis,  141-142,  314 

Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers, 
137,  225-226 

Amalgamated  TeJrtile  Workers, 
226 

American  Federation  of  Labor, 
137,  292 

Ames,  E.  S.,  163 

Ames,  J.  S.,  21 

Angell,  J.  E.,  77 

Angell,  N.,  237 

Arbitration,  industrial,  198-199, 
215,  217,  223,  225:  national, 
307,  309 


Archer,  W.,  283 

Armstrong,  H.  E.,  50 

Arrhenius,  S.,  44,  47-49,  318,  334 

Arsenals,  industrial  democracy, 
220 

Art,  landscape,  36,  39;  origin 
and  nature  of,  84-85;  as  inter- 
national force,  297 

Astronomy,  19,  43-44;  Milky 
Way,  44-45,  337-338;  spirals 
and  globular  clusters,  45,  337; 
finite  or  infinite  Universe,  45- 
46;  habitable  planets,  47-49, 
339-340;  electrical  phenomena, 
334;  behavior  of  gaseous 
masses,  334;  life  history  of 
stars,  336 

Atkins,  G.  G.,  93 

Atkinson,  H.  A.,  178,  181 

Atoms,  20-23 

Augustine,  28,  35 

Australia,  aborigines,  71;  trade 
boycott,  156;  arbitration,  198- 
199;  preferential  tariff,  270 

Ayuwasa,  I.  F.,  305 

Babcock  and  Claussen,  101,  343 

Bacteriology,  butter  and  cheese 
making,  98;  soils,  101;  disease 
and  resistance,  106,  109-110; 
intestinal  flora.  111 ;  water  and 
sewage,  123;  milk,  123;  in- 
fectious diseases,  125-126; 
primitive  organisms,  56,  344- 
845 

Bagdad  railway,  264 

Bailey,  L.  H.,  102-103 

Baker,  R.  S.,  178,  226,  284 

Baltic,  shipping  trust,  302;  eco- 
nomic coi^erence,  308 

Banking,  157;  German,  246-247; 
international,   298,  301 

Barnett  and  MeCabe,  199 

Barren,  JL  59,  339 

Basset,   W.   K.,   209 


349 


350 


INDEX 


Bateson,  W.,  52 

Begbie,  H.,  162 

Behavior,  in  industry,  xx,  177, 
195,  228,  315;  in  national  re- 
lations, xxi,  264 

Belgium,  139,  236,  306;  relief  of, 
128 

Berenson,  B.,  41 

Bergson,  25,  56 

Beyer,  D.  S.,  121 

Binnie,  J.  F.,  106 

Bird,  J.  M.,  21 

Birth    control,    68-69 

Birth  rate,  233,  277-278,  281 

Bismarck,   232,   240 

Blondel,  G.,  248 

Bloomfield,    D.,    203 

Bloomfield,  M.,  75,  178,  209 

Boaz,   F.,    69 

Bogart,    E.    L.,    243,    247 

Bonnefon,    C,    248 

Bonus,   200-202 

Bousset,  W.,  5 

Boycott,  Chinese,  268-269 

Brady,    W.,    106 

Brain,    27,    72-73 

Breastead,  J.  O.,  95 

Brill,  A.  A.,  69 

Brindell,  K.  P.,  189-190 

Brooks,  J.  G.,  178,  196 

Brown,  C.  B.,  115 

Bruce,  H.  A.,  115 

Bruere,  E.  W.,  223-224 

Bryce,    J.,    151,    271 

Bubonic  plague,  126,  295 

Budish  and  Soule,  225 

Bulgaria,  labor  conscription,  91 

Burbank,  L.,  101,  341 

Burkett,  C.  W.,   102 

Burns,  W.  J.,  189 

Burritt  et  al.,  198 

Butter,    97-98 

Cabot,    E.    C,    106 

Campbell,  N.  E.,  21 

Campbell,  W.  W.,  44 

Canada,  199n;  anti-dumping  tar- 
iff, 246;  part  in  War,  270 

Cannon,  W.  B.,   113 

Capital,  international,  299,  301- 
302,   309 

Cartels,   245,  247-248 

Castle,  W.  E.,  55,  341 

Cattle,  beef,  95;   dairy,  96-97 

Central  America,  126,  295-296 


Chamberlin,  T.  C,  44 

Chapin,    C.    V.,    123 

Character,  acquirement  of,  160- 
164,  320 

Cheese  making,  98 

Chemistry,  organic,  50,  55,  106, 
108-111,  342-345 

Chicago,  137,  224 

Children's  Year,  124 

China,  Boxer  indemnity,  266;  re- 
lations with  Germany,  267; 
with  Japan,  267-269 

Chirol,  v.,  273 

Cholera,  123,  126,  295 

Christianity,  as  a  working  hy- 
pothesis, ix,  xvi,  1,  15,  32,  143- 
145,  229,  294,  311;  influence 
on  civilization,  150-151;  on 
character  building,  162-164; 
on  practical  success,  173,  311- 
312;  not  an  economic  program, 
319;  an  attitude,  322;  its  so- 
cial value,  323 

Christian  Science,  105-107,  113 

Church,  136,  297 

Civilization,  development  of,  79, 
89,  238;  moral  basis  of,  314, 
317,   321-322 

Clarke,  F.  W.,  44 

Clarke,  James  Freeman,  81,  145- 
146 

Coe,  G.  A.,  163 

Cohen,  J.  H.,  222 

Collective  bargaining,  216,  222-25 

Colonization,  motives,  250-251 ; 
quick  exploitation,  252;  fran- 
chises and  public  works,  252; 
permanent  exploitation,  253 ; 
difficulties  and  dangers,  253; 
labor  problem,  254-257;  cost, 
257;  colonies  as  a  trust,  258; 
trade,  258 ;  monopoly,  259-261 ; 
open  door,  261-263;  Dutch  in 
Java,  274-278;  British  in  Na- 
tal,   278-281 

Colorado  Fuel  and  Iron  Co., 
strike  of  1913,  178-181;  plan 
of  industrial  cooperation,  215- 
216 

Colvin,  F.  H.,  210 

Commerce,  German,  244-246,  Co- 
lonial, 259-263;  Dutch,  278;  in- 
ternational, 298-300 

Common  interest,  262,  264,  293- 
310,  315,  328 


INDEX 


351 


Commons,  J.  R.,  151,  178,  227 
Comstock  and  Troland,  21 
Congo,  252,  307 
Conklin,    E.    G.,    69 
Consideration,  value  of,  145-146, 

148 
Coordinates,  23-24 
Corn  breeding,  100 
Coulter,  J.  M.  and  M.  C,  52 
Credit,  private,  157;   mercantile, 

158;  rural,  159;  international, 

298 
Cremer,  J.  T.,  278 
Croee,  B.,   85 
Croker,  E.  F.,  118-119 
Croly,  H.,   151 
Cromer,  Earl  of,  272-273 
Crowther,  S.,  178 
Cubberley,  E.  P.,  73 
Culbertson,  W.  S.,  261,  300 
Culture  System,  275-276 
Custom,  as  ethical  force,  160 
Cutler,  J.  E.,  284 
Czernin,  O.,  241-242 

Darwinism,  52-54,  60,  232-234 

Da   Vinci,   L.,   85-86 

Davison,   H.   P.,   128 

Dawson,  W.  H.,  244 

Day,    C,    278 

Dearmer,  P.,  33,  113 

Death,  Jewish  view  of,  5;  causes 
of,  119;  Christian  view  of,  6, 
318-319,  324 

Death  rate,  120-124,  184,  276, 
282,  291,  323-324 

Democracy,  in  Jesus'  teaching, 
14;  development  of,  151;  in  in- 
dustry, 208-209,  211-228 ;  view- 
point of,  325 

Dewey,  J.,  73,  75,  269 

Difflugia,  341,  346 

Disarmament  Conference,  238, 
300,   307-308 

Doane  and  Lawson,  98 

Draft,  causes  for  rejection,  107- 
108 

Drosophila,    341-342 

Dubois,  P.,  106 

Dumping,  241,  245-247,  300 

Dutch  East  India  Co.,  274-275 

Earth,  geologic  changes,  57;  fu- 
ture of,  318;  planetesimal 
hypothesis,  339 


East  and  Jones,  71,  101 

Ebert,   J.,    186 

Eckel,  E.  C,  301 

Eddington,  A.  S.,  21-22,  26,  44, 
336-337 

Education,  73-75,  80;  as  ethical 
force,  161;  in  Natal,  280;  in 
South,  290-291 ;  effect  of  demo- 
cratic movement,  325 

Egypt,  95,  295;  relations  with 
England,  272-274 

Einstein,  Albert,  21,  23-24 

Electrons,   21-23,   26-27 

Elliott,  H.  S.  R.,  82-83 

Ellis,    H.,    122 

Emigration,  conditions  in  New 
York,  137;  in  Lawrence,  186; 
to  tropics,  251;  in  relation  to 
industry,  233,  300-301 

Emmet,  B.,  198 

Employment  department,  203 

Endicott  Johnson  Shoe  Co.,  212 

Energy,   20,   26,  31,   56-57 

England,  36,  119,  139;  industrial 
relations  in,  178n;  reaction  to 
Germany,  239,  241,  246-247; 
colonies,  258,  262-263;  thwart- 
ing of  Germany  in  Turkey, 
264;  in  Persia,.  265;  reaction 
of  English-speaking  colonies, 
270;  control  of  Egypt,  265, 
272-274 

Environment,  vii-viii ;  physico- 
chemical,  55,  57;  organic,  57; 
social,  73,  75-76,  320;  moral, 
xxi,  150,  153,  162,  164-166,  228- 
229,  231 

Ethics,  ix;  Jesus'  system  of,  8- 
15,  153,  167;  influence  of  Chris» 
tian  idea  of  God,  150-151 ;  ju3> 
tice,  154;  honesty,  155;  attain- 
ment of  character,  160-164; 
problem  of  harmful  forces, 
165;  standards  of  national  re- 
lations, 248,  327;  cosmic  basis, 
xxi,  314;  goal  of  personality, 
317;  change  from  individual  to 
social  standards,  326 

Ettor,  J.  J.,  185-186 

Eugenics,  heredity,  69-73;  envi- 
ronment, 72-76,  320 

Evans,  M.  S.,  253 

Evans,  W.  A.,  121 

Evil,  in  Nature,  165;  in  Society, 
294,  3^0-321 


352 


IOT)EX 


Evolntion,  52-60,  312;  versus 
aehievement,  xxi,  316,  320; 
stages,  344-347 

Fairehild,  H.  P.,  284 
Farman,  E.  E.,  273 
Fatigue,  92-93,  201-202 
Finite   or  infinite   Universe,   45- 

46 
Fire  protection,  forests,  116-117; 

buildings,    117-119 
Fisher  and  Fisk,  106 
Fitch,  J.  A.,  181,  186,  216 
Flexner,  A.,   127 
Flexner,  S.,  295 
Folks,  H.,  296 
Force,  in  Physics,  26 
Ford,  Henry,  201 
Foreign    Missions,    in    Nigeria, 

163-164;  in  Natal,  279 
Forest  fires,  116-117 
Fosdick,  H.  E.,  170 
Foster,  J.  W.,  267 
France,  119,  139,  237;  suspicion 

of   Germany,   239;    commercial 

reaction,      246-247 ;      colonies, 

257,  260-262;  in  Moroeeo,  265; 

tariff    war    with    Switzerland, 

300 
Francke,  K.,  234 
Frank,    Leo,    285 
Frankel  and  Fleisher,  203 
Fraternal  organizations,  136 
Freedom   and    determinism,    xix, 

94 
Freeman,  F.  N.,  73 
French  Eevolution,  235,  271 
Friday,  D.,  239 

Friedman,  E.  M.,  248,  298,  300 
Future,  Jewish  view  of,  4-5;  of 

the  earth,  318;   of  individual, 

318-319;  of  the  race,  323-328 

Gantt,  H.  L.,  201,  206,  326 

Gary,  Judge,  147 

Geology,  44,  57,  339 

Georgia   Experiment   Station,  97 

Germany,  125;  cult  of  Natural 
Selection,  232 ;  population, 
233-234;  theory  of  State,  234- 
235;  colonies,  240,  257,  262- 
263 ;  commercial  penetration, 
240;  cost  of  military  competi- 
tion, 242-243;  expansion  of 
industry,  243-244;  economic  na- 


tionalism, 235,  244-246,  248; 
inflation,  246-247;  internal  sit- 
uation, 246,  248;  in  Turkey, 
264;  Morocco,  265;  Persia, 
265;  Shantung,  271;  Slesvig, 
271;  effect  of  War,  299 

Gibbons,  H.  A.,  263,  266-267 

Gilbreth,  F.  B.  and  L.  M.,  93 

Girault,   A.,   260-261 

Gleason,  A.,  178 

Globular  clusters,  45,  337 

Goldmark,  J.,  93 

Goodwill,  as  business  asset,  147- 
150,  262;  industrial  asset,  227, 
314-315 

Gordon,  K.,  77 

Gorgas,  W.  C,  121,  126 

Gorilla,  72 

Gourvitch,  P.  P.,  244 

Grant,  L.,   189 

Gregory,  W.  K.,  59 

Grimke,  A.  H.,  283 

Groat,  G.  G.,  178 

Guatemala,   126,   295 

Guayaquil,   126 

Gulick,  S.  L.,  267 

Hadley,  A.  T.,  151 

Hagerty,  J.  E.,  158-159 

Hague  Conferences,  306-307 

Hale,  E.  E.,  146 

Hale,  G.  E.,  44 

Hall,  W.  E.,  306 

Hamburg,  Ark.,  125 

Hamburg,  Germany,  123 

Hamilton-Beach  Mfg.  Co.,  191 

Hammond,  L.  H.,  282 

Hart,  Schaffner  and  Marx,  224- 
226 

Harwood,  W.  S.,  101 

Hastings,  E.  G.,  98 

Hauser,  H.,  241,  245 

Hays,  W.  M.,  99 

Health,  105-115,  119-126;  inter- 
national, 294-296 

Hebrew  literature,  mystical  ele- 
ment,   4,    40 

Henderson,  C.  B.,  196,  209 

Henderson,  L.  J.,  55 

Henley,  W.  E.,  66 

Heredity,  69-73 

Herero  revolt,  257 

Herf ord,  E.  T.,  4 

Hershey,  A.   S.,   306 

Higgins,  A.   P.,   306        s 


INDEX 


353 


HiU,  D.  S.,  206 

Hill,  H.  W.,  123 

Hillman,  S.,  226 

Hirn,    Y.,    84 

Hollman,  G.,  5 

Holt,  E.   B.,   162 

Home,  as  center  of  altruism,  134- 

135 
Honesty,    155;    basis   of    credit, 

157 
Honey  production,  99 
Hookworm,  295 
Hopkins,  E.  G.,  343 
Horse,  changes  in  dentition,  58 
Howard,  E.  D.,  244 
Howard,  E.,  106 
Howe,  Julia  Ward,  81-83,  86 
Hoxie,  E.  F.,  178,  202 
Huckel,  O.,  115 
Hunter,  E.,  193 
Huntington,  E.,  343 
Hyndman,  H.  M.,  263 

Immortality,  318-319 

Indentured  labor,  255-256 

India,  262-263 

Individual,  in  Jesus '  teaching,  9  j 
relation  to  the  Universe,  65- 
66,  77,  89,  102,  317;  in  in- 
dustry, 207,  211,  228,  317,  325, 
327 

Industrial  education,  205-206 

Industrial  Eelations  Commission, 
181,  183,  186,  192,  196 

Industrial  Workers  of  tke  World, 
183,  185-186 

Industry,  social  aspects,  75,  90- 
93,  154-155,  211,  317;  modern 
development,  176,  178;  strug- 
gle for  advantage,  177;  re- 
sults of  exploitation,  178-194; 
effect  of  better  working  condi- 
tions, 195;  welfare  work,  196; 
profit  sharing,  197;  compulsory 
arbitration,  198 ;  government 
regulation,  199;  bonus,  200- 
202 ;  employment  methods, 
203 ;  training  departments, 
204-206;  experiments  in  co- 
operation, 211-226;  peace  and 
war,  238-239;  as  form  of  mu- 
tual service,  326-327 

Infantile  paralysis,  295 

Infant  mortality,  124,  184 

Influenza,   295 


Ingersoll,  B.  G.,  104 

Inglis,    A.,    73 

Inspiration,  81 

Instincts,  expression  and  repres- 
sion, 75;  altruistic,  141-142; 
discipline  of,  154,  162 ;  acquisi- 
tiveness, 200-202 ;  construc- 
tion and  self-assertion,  209, 
211;  as  motives  of  action,  228- 
229,  315 

Insurance,  118-119;  social,  203, 
327;   against  war,  307-308 

Intelligence,  70-71,  74 

International  associations,  294, 
296-297,   301 

International  Bridge  and  Struc- 
tural Ironworkers,  187-188 

International  Labor  Legislation, 
Association  for,  303;  in  Peace 
Treaty,  304;  Conference,  304- 
305 

International  Ladies '  Garment 
Workers,  221-223 

International  Law,  306 

International  Maritime  Commit- 
tee, 302 

International  Metal  Workers, 
303 

Intuition,  81 

Iowa  Experiment  Sta.,  96-97 

Ireland,  A.,  252 

Island  universes,  45 

Italy,  139,  241;  adventure  in 
Tripoli,  257 


Jacoby,   H.,    44 

Jamaica,    255,    284 

Japan,  results  of  war  with  Bus- 
sia,  237;  treatment  of  China, 
267-269;  rise  in  wages,  303 

Jastrow,  J.,  77 

Jeans,  J.  H,,  44,  384 

Jeffreys,  H.,  339 

Jennings,  H.  S.,  341,  346 

Jephson,  H.,  122 

Jesus,  modernness,  1;  a  construc- 
tive thinker,  xvi,  2,  311-312; 
sources  for  his  teaching,  2; 
teaching  in  detail,  3-15;  ideas 
of  astronomy,  43 ;  on  marriage, 
68;  use  of  term  love,  134, 
149;  broadening  of  group  al- 
truism, 143;  consideration  as 
self-interest,    148;    system    of 


354 


INDEX 


ethics,  153,  162,  167;  idea  of 

prayer,  167-171 
Johnson,   F.   E.,   186 
Jones,  D.  F.,  71,  101 
Jordan,  E.  O.,  106 
Justice,    154-156  J    for    Negroes, 

284-286,   289 

Kaffirs,  278-281 

Kapteyn,  J.  C,  46,  340 

Keller,  A.  G.,  252 

Kellogg,  v.,  128 

Kelly,  E.  W.,  203,  205 

Kerlin,  E.  T.,  287 

Kidd,  B.,  148,  252 

King,  W.  L.  M.,  181,  207,  215 

Kingdom  of  God,  in  Jesus' 
teaching,  6-7,  9;  not  a  Utopia, 
149,  320;  a  cooperative  enter- 
prise, 316 

Knopf,  S.  A.,  125 

Krehbiel,  E.,  307 

Ku  Klux  Klan,  284,  287 

Labor,  moral  value,  91;  condi- 
tions of  efficiency,  92-93;  un- 
ions as  centers  of  altruism,  136- 
138;  history  and  status,  176- 
178;  coal  mining,  178-181; 
lumbering,  181-183 ;  textile 
mills,  183-186 ;  controversy 
with  National  Erectors'  Asso- 
ciation, 187-188;  N.  Y.  Build- 
ing Trades  Council,  189-190; 
objection  to  welfare  work,  197 ; 
to  profit  sharing,  198;  to  com- 
pulsory arbitration,  198;  to 
piece  work,  201;  to  Scientific 
Management,  201-202;  unem- 
ployment, 203;  human  factor, 
207,  327;  effect  of  war  condi- 
tions, 208;  attempts  to  revive 
craftsmanship,  210-220;  needle 
trades,  221-226;  assuming  re- 
sponsibility for  production, 
226,  327;  in  tropics,  254-257; 
international,  302-305,  309 

Labor  cost,  and  standard  of  liv- 
ing, 200,  303 

Labor  turnover,  203,  205,  209 

Ladies*  Garment  industry,  2£1- 
223 

Lane,  C.  B.,  97 

Laski,  H.  J.,  151 

Lauck,  W.  J.,  186 


Laughlin,  J.  L.,  158,  247 

Law,  155,  325;  international,  306 

Lawrence,  Mass.,  183-186 

Lawrence,  T.  J.,  306 

Leacock,  S.,  178 

League  of  Nations,  258,  296,  302, 

304,   307-308 
Leake,    A.    H.,    206 
Lebedew,  P.,  46 
Le   Bosquet,   J.   E.,   151 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  150-151 
Le  Dantec,  F.,  50,  149-150 
Leduc,  S.,  50 
Lee,  F.  S.,  93 
Leitch,  J.,  218 
Life,  26;  theories  of  origin,  49- 

50;  physico-chemical  basis,  55, 

342-343 
Lippmann,  W.,  151,  250-252 
List,  F.,  234 

Livingstone,  W.  P.,  164,  255 
Loeb,  J.,  66 
Loeb,  L.,  342 

London,  sanitary  evolution,  122 
Lorentz,  H.  A.,  21-22 
Lull,  E.  a,  44,  50,  56,  58,  339 
Lumber  industry,  182-183,  195 
Lusk,    G.,   106 
Lynching,  284-285 

Madagascar,  260-261 

Maize,    100 

Malaria,  125,  323 

Malthus,  232-233 

Man,  evolution,  59,  141;  heredi- 
ty, 69-73;  environment,  72-76; 
mental  adjustment,  vii-viii,  77' 
79;  physical  adjustment,  88- 
90;  developing  food  supply,  95- 
103;  control  of  health,  105- 
115;  of  providence,  116-129; 
moral  adjustment,  42,  144,  164 
167,  171,  173,  175,  228-229, 
248,  294,  309,  311,  314-315, 
322-323 ;  as  partner  in  creation, 
313-314;  as  object  of  creative 
process,  317;  future  social  de- 
velopment, 318;  future  of  in- 
dividual, 318-319;  slow  social 
adjustment,  320-321;  marks  of 
progress:  lengthening  of  hu- 
man life,  323-324;  democratic 
movement,  325;  social  solid- 
arity, 326-328 

Mandatories,  258 


im>EX 


355 


Marot,    H.,    206 

Mars,  48 

Marshall's  Microbiology,  98, 102, 
106,   123 

Materialism,  vii,  20-23,  28,  312 

Mathews,  A.  P.,  106 

Matter,  electrical  theory  of,  20- 
23  J  theological  problem,  29,  31, 
312 

Mauritius,  256,  262 

Mayo,    W.    J.,    120-121 

McDougall,  W.,  69,  297 

McManigal,   O.,    188 

McNamaras,  188 

McPherson,  J.  B.,  186 

Meat-packing  combination,  148 

Medicine,  surgery,  106-107; 
chemistry,  108-109;  bacteriol- 
ogy, 109-111;  mental  hygiene, 
112-115;  prevention  of  disease, 
120-126 

Mendel 's  Law,  53 

Men's  Garment  industry,  137, 
202,   224-225 

Mental  hygiene,  106,  112-115 

Metchnikoff,  111 

Migration,  Negro,  288-289,  292 

Miles,  H.  E.,  205 

Milk,  96-98,  123 

Milky  Way,  44-45,  337-338 

Millikan,  R.  A.,  20 

Millioud,  M.,  245-247 

Milner,  A.,  272-273 

Minchin,  E.  A.,  50 

Minimum  wage,  199 

Minkow^ski,  24 

Minnesota  Experiment  Sta.,  99- 
100 

Mitten,  T.  E.,  218-220 

Monism  and  Pluralism,  xix,  65, 
77,    94,    105,    313 

Montefiori,  C.  G.,  4 

Moore,  B.,  50 

Morgan,  T,  H.,  26,  52,  66,  234, 
342 

Morman,   J.   B.,   159 

Morocco,  251,  265,  295,  307 

Morris  Plan  banks,  158 

Morris,  Wm.,  91 

Morse,  J.,  287 

Mote,  C.  H.,  199 

Moulton,    F.    R.,    44 

Mt.  Wilson  observatory,  337 

Mozart,    85-86 

Miinsterberg,  H.,  77, 106 


Murphy,  E.  G.,  286-287 

Music,  84 

Mutations,  52-55,  70,  234,  341- 

343 
Mysticism,  32-33,  41-42 

Natal,  effect  of  British  rule, 
278-279;  treatment  of  natives, 
279-281 

National  Erectors*  Association, 
187-188 

National  Industrial  Conference 
Board,    199,    218 

Nationalism,  economic,  235,  244, 
248;  racial,  270-271,  281,  287, 
328;  political,  263,  272-274 

National  relations,  contrasting 
theories,  232,  248-249,  294 

Natives,  treatment  of,  252-257; 
in  Natal,  279-281 

Natural  Selection,  52-54,  232-234 

Nature,  Jesus'  view  of,  xvii,  3- 
4;  man's  communion  with,  35- 
38;  symbolism,  39-40;  mysti- 
cism, 41-42;  uniformity  of,  51, 
87-88 ;  cooperation  with,  66,  88- 
90;  contact  with,  in  manual 
labor,  91;   in  agriculture,  103 

Nearing,  S.,  178 

Negro,  93;  in  tropics,  254-257; 
in  Southern  states,  282-283; 
sex  relations,  283;  lynching, 
284-285;  civil  jusftice,  286; 
effect  on  whites,  286,  293;  ra- 
cial tension,  287;  migration, 
288-289;  education,  290-291; 
agriculture,  291;  public  health, 
291;  purchasing  power,  292; 
and  organized  labor,  292 

Neill,  C.  P.,  186 

Netherlands,  37;  colonial  policy, 
258,  278;  in  Java,  274-278 

Neurones,  72,  80 

New  Jersey  Bureau  of  State  Re- 
search, 218,  224 

New  York  City,  118-119,  137,  194, 
221-223,  225 

New  Zealand,  199n,  270 

Olivier,  S.,  254-257,  285 

Olsen,  J.  C,  123 

Open  door,  261-263 

Oppenheim,  L.,  306 

Osborn,    H.    F.,    50,    56-57,    59, 

345-347 
Osier,  W.,  106 


356 


INDEX 


Packard  Motor  Co.,  204 

Paleontology,    58,   346 

Palgrave,  F.  T.,  36 

Panama  Canal,  reduction  of 
death  rate,  121 

Pan-Germans,  235-236,  240,  248 

Panspermism,  47,  49 

Parables,  Jesus'  use  of,  2 

Parker,  C.  H.,  75,  183 

Parmelee,  M.,  69 

Patriotism,  as  altruistic,  139-140 

Patten,  S.  N.,  324 

Paul,    68,    134,    298 

Pearl,  E.,  119-120 

Pearson,  K.,  71 

Persia,  251,  265,  295 

Perugino,    41 

Peters,  J.  G.,  117 

Pfluger,  E.,  50 

Pharisaism,  4-5 

Philadelphia  Eapid  Transit  Co., 
218-220 

Philanthropy,   151,  325 

Philippines,  TT.  S.  in,  257 

Physics,  electrical  theory  of  Mat- 
ter,   20-22;    relativity,    23-25 
relation    to    Biology,    26,    55 
uniformity   of   Nature,   87-88 
cooperation  with  Nature,  90 

Piez,  C,  192 

Pigou,  A.  C,  203 

Pillsbury,  W.  B.,  77 

Pirrson  and  Schuehert,  44 

Planetesimal  hypothesis,  339 

Planets,  habitable,  47-49,  339-340 

Plants,  evolution,  56,  345  j  breed- 
ing, 53-54,  99-101,  341 

Poetry,  landscape  in,  35-36,  40 

Popenoe  and  Johnson,  69 

Population,  theory  of,  232-234; 
emigration,  251,  300-301;  Java, 
276-277;  Natal,  278 

Porteus,  S.  D.,  71 

Pragmatism,  viii,  149,  236,  323 

Pratt,  J.  B.,  163 

Prayer,  in  Jesus*  teaching,  11; 
cooperative  basis,  167-172; 
answer  to,  170;  social  value, 
171-172 

Prendergast,  W.  A.,  158 

President 's  Industrial  Commis- 
sion, 199,  209,  226 

Preziosi,   G.,   240-241 

Price,  G.  M.,  196,  222 

Primates,  57,  59 


Profiteering,   229 

Profit   sharing,   197-198,   212 

Prostitution,  69;  control,  127 

Protocol,   221-223 

Protozoa,  56,  345 

Providence,  in  Jesus*  teaching, 
10-11;  man's  control  of,  116; 
fire,  116-119;  health,  119-121; 
accident,  121;  sanitation,  122- 
125;  disease,  125-126;  prosti- 
tution, 127;  alcoholism,  127; 
famine,  128;  meaning  of  con- 
trol, 133,  168,  324 

Psychology,  77;  concepts,  vii, 
77-79;  mind  and  brain,  26,  80; 
the  subconscious,  80-83,  86; 
aesthetics,  84-85 

Public  health,  120-126;  in  South, 
282-283,  291;  as  international 
problem,  294-296 

Punett,  E.  C,  52 

Putnam-Weale,  B.  L.,  269 

Eace,  70,  263,  270,  282,  328 

Eankin,    M.    T.,    199 

Eausehenbusch,  W.,   28 

Eeclamation  and  drainage,  102 

Eed  Cross,  work  in  Europe,  128; 
in  American  communities,  139; 
international,  296 

Eedfield,  W.  C,  200-201 

Eeichert,  E.  T.,  342 

Eeinsch,  P.  S.,  252,  261,  294 

Eelativity,   21,   23-25 

Eeligion,  viii,  xvii;  and  Sci- 
ence, 27-32;  dualism,  29-30; 
biological  significance,  30;  re- 
lation to  sex,  68;  to  labor,  90- 
92;  to  agriculture,  103;  to 
health,  113-115;  to  character 
building,  161-164;  as  interna- 
tional force,  297;  place  of 
Christianity,  311;  pragmatic 
value,  322-323;  change  of  tone, 
323-324 

Eenaissance,  36 

Eetail  trade,  modern  evolution, 
146-147 

Eettger,  L.  F.,  112 

Eevolutionary  propaganda,  183, 
185-186,  194,  325 

Eichardson,  O.  W.,  21 

Eitter,  W.  E.,  66 

Eobinson,  W.  J.,  69 

Eochester,  N.  Y.,  123 


INDEX 


357 


Rockefeller  Poundation,  125-126, 

296 
Rockefeller,  J.  D.,  Jr.,  181,  215 
Roe,  J.  W.,  159 
Romanticism,  37 
Rosenau,  M.  J.,  106,  123 
Rotary  Club,  code  of  ethics,  156 
Romnania,  139 
Rowntree,  B.  S.,  178,  203 
Rubinow,  I.  M.,  203 
Rucker,    W.   J.,    195 
Russell,  H.  N.,  336,  338 
Russia,  139,  194,  293,  325;  war 

with   Japan,   237;    in   Persia, 

265 
Ryan,  F.  M.,  187-188 

Safety  engineering,  121,  203 

St.    Thomas,   255 

Sanders,    A.,    96 

Sanitary  Control,  Board  of,  222 

Sanitation,  122-126,  283 

Sayre,    F.    B.,    294 

Schafer,    E.    A.,    50 

Schechter,  S.,  4 

Schuchert,  C,  44,  58 

Science,    inductive    method,    vii, 

1,  32,  175,  227;  and  Religion, 

27-32,  322-323 
Scientific  Management,  201-203 
Scott,  E.  J.,  289 
Sedgwick,  W.  T.,  123 
Seligman,  H.  J.,  287,  292 
Senancour,  E.  P.  de,  42 
See,  T.  J.  J.,  43-44,  47 
Serbia,  139,  305 
Sex,   67-68;   relations  in  South, 

283-284 
Shadwell,  A.,  244 
Shantung,  267-268 
Shapley,  H.,  44-46,  336,  338 
Sherrington,  C.   S.,  77 
Shop  committees,  217-220 
Sidis,  B.,  77 
Slessor,  M.,  163 
Slesvig,  271 
Slichter,  S.  H.,  203 
Small,   A.   W.,   80 
Smallpox,  125-126 
Smith,  Adam,  176,  235 
Smith,  G.  E.,  59 
Smith,    R.    H.,    155 
Social  insurance,  203,  327 
Socialism,  materialism,  28;   and 

production,     206  j     in    needle 


trades,  225;  German,  235;  in- 
ternational, 303 

Society,  not  an  organism,  xviii, 
316;  solidarity  of,  11-12,  316- 
317,  326;  as  viewpoint,  152, 
309,   325 

Soil  improvement,  101-102 

Solano,  E.  J.,  305 

Sommerville,  D.  M.  Y.,  25 

South  Africa,  256,  270;  treat- 
ment of  natives,  255,  278-281 

Spargo,  J.,  207 

Species,  origin  of,  52-55,  341- 
343 

Speech,  72,  78 

Spencer,  Herbert,   82-83,   86 

Sport,  91;  international,  297 

Starbuck,  E.  D.,  163 

State,  German  theory  of,  234- 
235;  economic  nationalism, 
236,  244,  248 

Stoddard,  L.,  256,  263 

Stoddard,  W.  L.,  218 

Stotesbury-Mitten  plan,  218-220 

Subconscious,  77,  80-82;  training 
of,  83 

Suggestive  therapeutics,  106, 112- 
115 

Superman,  70,  317 

Surgery,  106 

Switzerland,  241,  300 

Tarbell,  I.  M.,  196,  207 

Tariff,  protective,  236,  244-246, 
248;  preferential,  236,  252, 
259-261,  263,  270;  anti-dump- 
ing, 246;  wars,  300;  bargain- 
ing, 300 

Taxes,  German,  242-243 ;  for  colo- 
nization, 257;  of  colonies,  261; 
of  natives,  256,  272,  275-277, 
280 

Taylor,  F.  W.,  201-202 

Tead,    O.,    210,    228 

Tead  and  Metcalf,  178,  218 

Teleology,    52,    54,    56,    316 

Terman,  L.  M.,  70,  74 

Textile  industry,  183-186,  261- 
262 

Thayer,  W.  R.,  151 

Thomas,  A.,  305 

Thompson,  C.   B.,   202 

Thompson,  D.  W.,  343 

Thomson,  J.  J.,  21 

Thomson,  W.  M.,  73 


358 


INDEX 


Thorndike,  E.  L.,  73 
Tolman,  E.  C,  21-22 
Training  department,  204-205 
Troland,  L.  T.,  21,  50 
Tropics,  control  of,  250,  263 
Tuberculosis,  124-125 
Tufts,  J.  H.,  85 
Turkey,   264,   295,   306 
Twenty-one  Demands,  268 
Typhoid  fever,  123-124 

TJnderhill,  F.  P.,  343 

Unemployment,  203,  248;  inter- 
national, 299,  303-304 

TJnited  Mine  Workers,  in  Colo- 
rado strike,  178-181;  contract 
with  Victor  American  Fuel  Co., 
216 

United  States,  in  Philippines, 
257;  in  China,  266-267 

U.  S.  Steel  Corporation,  147, 
187 

Usher,  A.  P.,  178 

Veblen,  T.,  238,  245-246 
Verrill,    C.    H.,    199 
Vertebrates,  57,  346-347 
Victor  American  Fuel   Co.,   216 
Vocational  training,  74-75;   205- 
206,   210 

Waddle,  C.  W.,  69 

Wallace,  A.  E.,  47-48 

Wallas,  G.,  151 

Wanamaker,  J.,  revolution  in 
business  methods,  146;  state- 
ment of  principles,  147 

War,  121;  America's  part  in, 
140;  practical  futility  of,  236- 
237;  competition  in  arma- 
ments^ 239-241;  cost,  242-243; 


Canada's  part  in,  270;  effect 
on  Egypt,  273-274;  on  Negroes 
in  U.  S.,  287-288;  on  world 
trade,  299;  change  in  moral 
standards,  327 

War  Labor  Board,  199-200,  217, 
219 

Washington  lumber  industry,  181- 
183,    195 

Washington,  B.  T.,  93 

Water  and  sewage  purification, 
123 

Watson,  D.  M.  S.,  56 

Watson,  J.  B.,  69 

Webb,  S.  and  B.,  178 

Welfare  work,  196-197 

Wells,  H.  G.,  ix,  165 

West,  G.  P.,  181 

Weyl,  W.  E.,  151 

Wheat  breeding,  99-100 

Wheeler,  W.  E.,  269 

White,  A.  D.,  28 

White,  W.  A.,  106 

White,    W.    F.,    286 

Whitman,   Walt,    41 

William  II,  235,  241,  264 

Williams,  J.  E.,  216 

Williams,  W.,  211 

Willys-Overland  Co.,  197 

Winslow,  C.  H.,  222 

Wolf,  E.  B.,  213-215 

Wolff,  H.  B.,  159 

Woodruff,  L.  L.,  49-50 

Woolf,  L.  S.,  294,  297,  303 

Work,    M.    N.,    291 

Wright,  q.  D.,  178,  180 

Yellow  fever,  126,  295 

Zinsser,  H.,  106 
Zulus,   278-281 


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^   ^/^D6 


/' 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


